


All It Cost

by Nova42



Series: Frozen [2]
Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Adventure, Characters pushed to their limits, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Magic, Major Character Injury, Politics, Post-Frozen (2013), Psychological Trauma, Sister-Sister Relationship, Slow burn subplots, Violence, War, dark/gritty themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:55:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 41
Words: 198,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22981351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nova42/pseuds/Nova42
Summary: "That's what happens when you're responsible for lives other than your own, isn't it? You do what you have to do. No matter the cost."Three months have passed since Elsa exposed her magic and thawed the kingdom. She is slowly settling into life with the gates open while trying to be the sister Anna wants and the Queen Arendelle needs, but not everything is that simple and there are those that would use the young queen as a means to their own ends.
Relationships: Anna & Elsa (Disney), Anna/Kristoff (Disney)
Series: Frozen [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1731874
Comments: 371
Kudos: 196





	1. Beyond the Wind and Sky

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: Frozen I and II
> 
> AN: Some notes of mild importance. It was never clear how much land Elsa ruled over so I have decided to use my artistic license assume the Kingdom of Arendelle encompasses all of the what use to be the county of Aust-Agder, still not a huge area, but more than a tiny village. Each municipality has its own baron that serve the crown.
> 
> Some things like titles, weapons, politics will not be wholly historically accurate for the 1800s in Norway, I'm okay with that. This is a fantasy piece, not a history project.
> 
> This will be a multi chaptered story, it has a companion piece called "Head Above Water" both exist in the same universe and scenes that don't fit the narrative flow of this story may show up in "Head Above Water" so keep an eye out. :P
> 
> I hope everyone enjoys the story and don't forget to tip your nokk on the way out. 💕

There was no doubt about it, the queen was not happy.

Elsa had promised to spend the evening with her sister. She'd already missed dinner, and now it was nearing sunset.

She pressed icy fingertips to her temples, hoping to relieve the pressure there, but the ache behind her eyes she'd woken with had only grown as the hours went on. It was now at a point that she was sure her skull might crack.

The day, which had been a study in torture and a test of her patience, had opened with a meeting with the Baron of Riser. He was looking to reform the marriage laws, specifically the age of consent, as he was keen on marrying some poor girl who was decades younger than he. The man had been insistent that what they had was true love, and nothing to do with the size of the girl's dowry. Never mind that it was his third marriage.

It had taken more than several "no's" to close the meeting; Elsa had finally issued a less than subtle threat about finding alternative ways for the baron to serve the crown if he could not practice patience and better judgement. She wasn't usually so direct, but this was not the first time the baron had approached her about this topic. She was, however, determined to make sure it was the last.

The council meeting that followed, while productive, had on more than one occasion devolved into her advisories bickering like children, which did nothing to help her mood or head. Several times, they had forced her to steer them back to the topic at hand. The meeting had taken hours longer than it should have, and she had to skip lunch to make her next appointment with a representative from the barony of Valle, one which she could not afford to be late for.

Court had been no better.

Only a few months had passed since she froze Arendelle, and while the fallout had been minimal, the storm destroyed the crops in many of the surrounding farms. With autumn in full swing and winter rapidly approaching, her people were, understandably, worried there would not be enough food. Elsa had repeated the same reassurances no less than ten times to just as many people: Yes, there would be enough food for everyone. Yes, she made provisions. Of course, she would personally oversee it.

It had taken the rest of her afternoon to finish the remaining paperwork with agreements to sign off on and a food delivery to oversee. Her back was sore from hunching over her desk, and fingers stained with ink, but she almost done. A few more signatures and seals and she would be free. Or, as free as she could be while running a kingdom.

An hour later, Elsa signed the last form with a flourish. She blew softly on the fresh ink before setting the parchment atop a pile on the corner of her desk. Later, Kai would ensure each individual form or deed got to where it needed to be.

Shoulders already slumping in relaxation, she pushed her chair back, prepared to join her sister in the library and salvage whatever she could of the night. There was a knock on her door, and Elsa looked up to see Kai standing on the threshold.

"Your Majesty."

"Kai," she greeted him warmly. She stood, gesturing to the stack of papers. "Perfect timing. I have some letters that will need to go out tomorrow..." She noticed the pensive look on her steward's face, the letter clutched in his hand. "But you're not here for that, are you?"

"No, ma'am," he said, his tone regretful. As the keeper of her schedule, Kai knew better than any how trying this day had been. It was clear he also knew that whatever news he had for her would not make the day any better. "A messenger arrived just now, bearing this letter. He stated it was a matter of grave importance and is waiting for a reply to take back to his lord."

Elsa released a breath and sat back down. She pushed her shoulders back, regaining the regal composure she bared throughout the workday, and gestured for him to bring her the letter. She turned the folded paper and studied the seal. She knew not just the seals within her own kingdom, but those of the kingdoms with which they conducted business, and a few they did not. This was one she did not recognize. "Where is the messenger now?" she asked as she broke the seal and unfolded the paper.

"He is in one of the sitting rooms just off the entryway, Your Majesty."

Elsa nodded, then turned her attention to the letter, skimming the contents. She frowned, read the words again. "Kai," she said, without looking up. "Bring me a map. One with the lands that surround our own, please."

* * *

Elsa was late.

Anna didn't mind waiting, though, not with a sunset like this. She stood out on the library's balcony, tipped her face skyward and relished the last dregs of the day's warmth. She had spent the day with Kristoff, walking through town and stopping off for some hot chocolate at the small café that overlooked the port. It was quickly becoming one of her favorite places to just sit and watch the people of Arendelle go about their day.

Anna smiled when she thought about Kristoff. They were taking things slow, just getting to know each other, enjoying each other's company. After what happened with Hans, she didn't want to rush into anything, even if she was sure Kristoff was the one. She'd been sure about Hans too, until the moment he left her alone to freeze to death. Anna was more than happy to take things slower this time.

She stretched her arms over her head, contently watching the sun disappear below the horizon It didn’t surprise her that Elsa was late, or that she'd missed dinner. Since the coronation, the exposure of her magic, and the Kingdom opening its gates, it seemed everybody wanted an audience with the new Queen of Arendelle. Each with their own agenda.

While Anna enjoyed, even relished, the sudden influx of new and interesting people visiting from different countries, it left her sister with little in the way of free time. She didn't hold it against Elsa; she had a lot of new and crushing weight resting on her shoulders, and not just with a kingdom to run.

There were other obstacles for Elsa to surmount, things _normal_ monarchs didn't have to deal with. The exposure of her magic and the fallout that came from it took up most of her days. 

It was being called the Queen's Winter; they spent the first month assessing the damage it caused and cleaning up messes. Not everyone was pleased to hear Arendelle's queen had the ability to lock down an entire kingdom at will. Accidental or otherwise. Elsa had penned letters, repeatedly assuring the neighboring kingdoms that Arendelle had no ill intentions, that she had no desire to use her magic against them. Three months later, there were still those who remained unconvinced.

Since the summer storm Elsa had displayed a better control over her magic and could dismiss any ice or snow, she inadvertently created. But she still struggled to keep it under control when stressed or startled. Unfortunately, stressed seemed to be an almost constant state of being for her older sister.

With everything that happened, she and Elsa were closer now than they'd ever been, though it was sometimes difficult to find the time they both now wanted. The staff was being increased, and Elsa held court twice a week so the people could ask for the Queen's help or judgement. New representatives and diplomats from other lands sailed in on almost a daily basis, and through it all, her sister displayed a calm, reassuring, and regal grace, but Anna knew what was brewing below the royal facade.

Magic wasn’t the only obstacle Elsa was struggling with. Thirteen years of isolation with very minimal contact and believing you were a danger to those around you wasn’t something you could fix with a hug or encouraging smile.

Elsa was still uncomfortable around people, especially strangers, for any extended amount of time, she struggled with physical contact, catching herself flinching even from Anna. Then there had been the late-night panic attacks after particularly trying days. She did what she could to help her sister through them, sitting with her, being a comforting presence. But it wasn't easy. She didn't know her sister that well—not yet—and she was still trying to learn when to push, when to back off, and what triggers to avoid. It was a trial-and-error process, some errors worse than others, but they were slowly making progress.

Anna frowned. Or they _would_ be making progress if Elsa didn't seem so dead set on working herself into exhaustion.

With the sun fully set and a blanket of stars twinkling into existence, Anna decided to check on her sister and make sure she the woman wasn’t trapped under a stack of paperwork. Literally or figuratively. She hummed as she made her way to Elsa's study; she smiled as her thoughts drifted back to the day spent with Kristoff.

"Why come to us?" Elsa's quiet voice floated out into the hallway.

Anna slowed her pace, not wanting to interrupt if her sister was in a meeting. Especially one that stretched on this late into the night. She peeked her head into the office and saw her sister looking down at something on her desk. Elsa looked distressed, kneading at her forehead. Kai stood just to the right of her, his posture rigid. The room was noticeably colder than the hallway.

"I could not say, Your Majesty."

Frowning, Elsa leaned back in her chair, bracing a fist against her mouth as she stared thoughtfully. Her gaze drifted up, eyes widening when they locked on Anna's.

"Anna!" She glanced toward the window as she sat up straighter. Her face fell. "Anna, I'm so sorry. I know I promised you..." She pressed her lips into a tight line, looking back down at what Anna could now see was a map. "I'm almost done."

Anna bobbed her head, smiled so her sister knew she wasn't upset. Elsa didn't ask her to leave or wait outside the room, so she stepped fully inside and folded her hands in front of her.

Elsa turned to Kai. "Prepare a room for our guest for the night and let him know I'll have an answer for him tomorrow." She stood stiffly, picking up a letter and folding it. "Have Admiral Naismith meet me first thing in the morning." After a pause, she added, "Gergar Alfson and Halstein Dal, as well. Have all three meet me here."

Kai bowed his head. "Yes, Your Majesty."

Anna waited until the steward had left before turning back to her sister.

Apparently expecting her sister to launch into an insulted tirade, Elsa held up a hand. "I know, I'm sorry. I promised to spend the evening with you." She walked around the desk, coming to a stop in front of Anna, wringing her hands. "But something came up." White-faced, she pressed her lips together. "A lot of somethings, actually."

"Elsa." Anna reached out and took her sister's hands into her own, feeling a faint thrill of victory when Elsa didn't flinch. "When was the last time you ate?"

The older woman looked taken aback by the question, but quickly recovered and tilted her head.

It was enough of an answer for Anna. "Okay," she said, squeezing Elsa's hands. "If it's taking you this long to think about it, then it's been too long." She tugged her sister toward the door. "Let's go. Kitchen raiding time." In the hallway, she linked an arm through Elsa's, pulling her along without giving her the opportunity to escape.

"Anna," Elsa protested anyway, "the kitchen staff is probably cleaning up for the night. I'm sure they will not appreciate us raiding the pantry."

Anna waved her free hand dismissively. "At this hour, they've already finished cleaning and prepping for tomorrow. The kitchen will be empty."

Elsa raised an eyebrow. "Just how many times have you raided the pantry?"

Anna turned her head toward her sister and grinned.

Elsa chuckled, shaking her head. "You know what Olina will do if she catches you."

Anna wrinkled her nose and rubbed the back of her head, thinking back on those times when they were younger and would sneak into the pantry only to run into Olina wielding a wooden spoon. "Well, obviously the idea is to not get caught. Besides, that's what you're here for."

Her sister released a genuine laugh. It was a glorious sound that Anna had desperately missed, one she would never grow tired of hearing. "I am _not_ going to protect you from Olina."

Anna pouted, dragging on her sister's arm like she did when they were children. "What's the point of you being queen if I can't get some pastries out of it."

"How very altruistic of you, Anna. You are a shining example of selflessness to the entire kingdom."

Anna responded by sticking her tongue out at her older sister, eliciting another chuckle, and she could see the lines that had wrinkled Elsa's face fade away. Another small victory.

The two walked the rest of the way to the kitchen in companionable silence. Anna's curious mind kept jumping back to the bit of conversation she'd heard between Elsa and Kai. She wasn't aware of any guests in the castle, and whatever this mysterious person wanted had her sister concerned, which had Anna concerned. But first food, then questions.

Anna pushed the heavy wooden door open; the kitchen was a cozy, warm space, lit by multiple fires during the day. The smell of labskovs cooking in a pot over the open flame made Anna's mouth water. At least, until Anna realized still-cooking stew meant the kitchen was not as empty as she had thought.

"Olina," Anna said with a nervous laugh, spotting the older matron standing next to the hearth, deftly cutting a handful of herbs. "I thought you'd have retired for the night."

Olina turned toward the sisters, raising a single eyebrow. “Your majesty, your highness.”

“Forgive us,” Elsa said, “our stomachs could not wait until morning.”

"I'm not surprised," Olina propped a hand on her hip. "I knew it'd only be a matter of time before you found your way down here, as you've had naught to eat today."

Anna looked to Elsa with surprise. Missing dinner was one thing, but she'd assumed her sister wouldn’t allow herself to go without food the entire day.

Elsa dipped her head and averted her gaze, with the good grace to look both remorseful and stubborn. "You didn't have to stay up on my account."

The older woman gestured to Anna. "And allow this one make a mess of my pantry, looking for food? Again?"

"I..." As much as Anna wanted to claim offense, she could admit that she may have made a mess—or two—while on a mission for food. Without a suitable defense for herself, she only offered a shrug.

"It is no trouble, Your Majesty." Olina moved to the pot and dropped in the chopped herbs. "You are not the first monarch to work through meals, and I doubt you will be the last. Your father was often guilty of the same."

A blush colored Elsa's face, reaching her ears. Anna knew little made her sister happier than being compared favorably to their father. He had been the example of everything she strived to be as queen.

With a kind smile, Olina gestured for them to settle at the scrubbed wooden table. “The soup should be ready in a few more minutes.” With that, she turned back to the pot and left the sisters to themselves.

Anna couldn't help but frown as she took a seat.

"What?" Elsa asked.

"How'd you managed to miss breakfast? Did you sleep in?" She leaned forward, her brows drawn together. "Are you capable of sleeping in?"

Elsa rolled her eyes. "No, Anna, I did not sleep in. And, yes, I am capable of doing so."

"Sure."

"You can thank Øystein for my missing breakfast. He was quite insistent on meeting with me first thing this morning."

"Øystein? Not the Baron from Riser trying to reform the—"

"—marriage laws?" Elsa wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Yes, that would be him." She leaned forward on her elbows and pressed her fingertips to her temples, finally allowing her queenly mask to slip away completely.

"Is he still trying to marry—"

"Yes," Elsa interrupted again. "And I am hoping this will be the last time I have to hear of it."

"Considering this is his third visit, what makes you so sure he's going to listen this time?"

Elsa smirked, resting her hands on the tabletop. "I may have been less than subtle when suggesting I'd remove him from the barony if he persisted."

Anna snorted. "Can you do that?"

"Yes," her sister said carefully. "Though it's generally best to have a reason stronger than 'he's being an irritation' when stripping nobles of their titles." Elsa's lips quirked. "There tends to be a bit of backlash."

Anna laughed. "Still, I wish I could have seen the look on his face when you told him."

Elsa chuckled, but stopped when Olina placed bowls of soup in front of them both. She softly thanked the matron, and Olina bowed her head before returning to finish cleaning the kitchen.

"Speaking of relationships," Elsa said, blowing on a steaming spoonful of labskovs stew. "How are things between you and Kristoff?"

Anna felt the blush creep across her face as she thought of him. "Good," she replied with a grin.

"Any thoughts about making things more... official?"

Anna almost choked on her mouthful of soup. "What? I can't—I can't marry him. I've only known him for three months!" She dropped her spoon to the tabletop, thinking about how quickly the tables had turned.

"I'm not talking about marriage, Anna," Elsa said, obviously amused at how easily she'd caused her sister to trip over her words. "Or saying you should rush things. But," she continued, her tone falling serious, "you are now the crown princess and heir presumptive. You must know that a potential suitor is going to be a matter of great political interest. And until you are officially courting, the council is going to be keen on throwing suitors at you any chance they get to ensure the line of succession. They've already started trying."

Anna sputtered wordlessly for another moment, not prepared for the path the conversation was heading down. She had rushed things with Hans, and it turned out catastrophic on so many levels. While she highly doubted Kristoff had intentions of marrying her and murdering Elsa so he could claim the throne as his own, she'd had her heart broken, and it was still on the mend. She didn’t want to put herself in such a position again, not this soon.

"What about you?" Anna asked, attempting to deflect the conversation. At least for now.

"What about me?" Elsa asked.

Anna pointed her spoon at her sister. "You're the queen. That means it's your job to ensure the line of succession, not mine. I would think the council would be tripping over themselves trying to get you married as soon as possible."

Elsa went still, her gaze falling to the half-eaten bowl of soup. Anna knew immediately that she'd unintentionally grazed a sensitive, possibly sour, subject. She should have known better; of course, her sister would be uncomfortable with the idea of getting so close to someone in such a way. 

Anna wanted to reassure her sister that she would find someone, one day, without the fear of hurting them with her magic. “Elsa—”

“I...” For the first time since Anna could remember, her sister seemed at a loss for words. For a long moment, Elsa was quiet, staring down at her bowl. When she finally continued, she picked her words with care. “I do not believe the council, or others, are comfortable with the line continuing through me. At least, not at the present.”

Anna recoiled. Out of all the things she could have expected her sister to say, this had not made the list. "Wait, what? Did someone tell you that?"

"No." Elsa shook her head. "I'm not sure anyone would be that forward. But I have heard the rumors, whispers."

It dumbfounded Anna. There was no way this could be true; why would anyone take issue with Elsa getting married and having children? It made no sense. It was part of a monarch's job to provide an heir, to ensure someone was there to take over.

She watched as Elsa withdraw into herself, her food left forgotten as she wrung her hands in front of her, a nervous habit Anna had come to recognize. Then it hit her—they were afraid any child Elsa bore would have the same powers she did. Her shoulders fell. “Elsa...”

"Their concerns are not unfounded. I’ve had the same thought. The same fear."

Not for the first time, Anna found herself loathing the council, a group of stuffy old men with opinions they should keep to themselves. "Elsa, that's ridiculous. Who cares if any of your children have magic?"

"A lot of people, Anna. And a lot of other Kingdoms would care, too."

"Well, their opinions don't matter."

“I wish that was true. But unfortunately, their opinions do matter. People fear me, my magic, and with good reason. Look what I did to Arendelle.”

"That was an accident," Anna replied.

"Exactly." Elsa nodded; her hands clasped tightly on the tabletop. "I almost destroyed my own kingdom without even trying. People see that, they _remember_ that, and they're afraid of what might happen if this power was turned against them as a weapon. By me, or any child I bare."

"So, that's it?" Anna flopped heavily against the back of her chair. "You're just going to give up any chance of finding love or having children because of what other people fear?"

Elsa smiled sadly. “Fear is a powerful thing. It causes people to do desperate things to protect what they might lose. Above all else, I must do what is best for my people.”

"Even at the cost of your own happiness?"

“Yes,” Elsa said firmly. “Anna, I am a queen. That means from the day I was born, my life, everything I do, is in duty and service to the crown. The lives of the people will always come before my own happiness. That is my responsibility.”

"Elsa..."

Elsa stood abruptly, pushing her chair away from the table with a harsh scrape. "It's late, Anna. I'm sure Olina would like to get to bed, and I have an early day tomorrow." She folded her hands in front of her, her calm, regal mask set firmly in place. Anna's heart sank seeing it. "I'm sorry I could not spend a proper evening with you, but I promise to make it up to you. Goodnight." She exited the kitchen before Anna could say a word of protest.

Anna slumped back in her chair, a heavy breath escaping her. She startled when a hand landed on her shoulder.

Olina gave her a soft, comforting squeeze, then moved to collect the queen's bowl. "Try not to be too hard on her, your highness. She's scared and is only trying to do what she thinks is best for her people."

Anna smiled up at the woman. "I know, I just wish sometimes she'd do what was best for _her_."


	2. A Matter of Duty

With graceful looping letters, Elsa signed her name on the bottom of the letter she had spent the last hour on. She set her pen aside and sat back in her chair, taking a moment to look over the response, alone in her study, she chewed on her lower lip, allowing her indecision and uncertainty to slip out past the regal mask she'd upheld during the earlier meeting.

Three of her advisors had been present in the meeting. Admiral Mikael Naismith, her treasurer Halstein Dal, and Gregar Alfson, the advisor for international affairs. They'd given her their advice, logistics for and against, but ultimately, the decision was hers alone to make. She sighed wearily, then closed the letter and dripped warm wax onto the fold before pressing her seal onto it. The action felt heavy and final, like she was signing a death warrant for people who had committed no crime. But, above all else, she was the Queen, and had to do what was best for her people.

Resigned that she was doing just that, Elsa stood with the letter in hand. It was nearing lunchtime; she needed to hand the letter off to Kai and find Anna as soon as she could. She knew she needed to apologize for the way she left things with her sister the night before. She had promised Anna that she would be more open with her, a promise that was proving easier in theory than in practice. The need to conceal, don't feel, was forever at the forefront of Elsa's mind and was her default mode when things hit an emotional high, even with her sister.

Elsa pulled open the door to her study, only to jump back, freezing the floor beneath her feet, as her sister appeared from around the corner. "Anna!" She pressed a hand to her chest, taking a few deep breaths before dismissing the ice covering the polished wood.

Anna ducked her head, clearly attempting to look remorseful, but the mischievous smile on her face was hard to miss. "Sorry."

"You are not." Elsa tried to give her a stern look but likewise failed horribly. She chuckled, shaking her head.

Anna opened her mouth, but before she had a chance to debate the accusation, Kai approached them both. "Your Majesty," he greeted Elsa first, bowing his head slightly. "Your Highness. Lunch is ready."

"Thank you, Kai." Elsa looked down at the letter clutched in her hand. She still had time to change her mind, but as much as she wanted to, she knew her hands were tied. She held out the letter to Kai. "Please give this to our guest." As an afterthought, she added, "if he needs any provisions for his trip back, please see to them."

"Yes, ma'am." Kai dipped his head and accepted the letter.

Elsa watched him leave, folding her hands in front of her in an effort to keep from wringing them anxiously. After a moment, she turned to Anna. "Lunch?"

Anna had also been watching Kai's retreat, but with obvious curiosity. She turned toward Elsa. "What was that about?"

In lieu of an immediate response, Elsa turned and walked toward the dining room, trusting her sister would follow. She was unsure how much to tell her about the morning's meeting. She didn't want Anna to worry about something outside of her control. Or worse, Elsa thought, try to do something that could end very badly, for her or for Arendelle. Her sister had a big, full heart; there was no need to weigh it down more than it already was.

"It's a long story," Elsa finally said as they continued down the hallway. "One that has, thankfully, reached its conclusion."

Anna tilted her head. "Well, I have all day."

Elsa smiled. "That would make one of us, then. I have far too much work to get done today."

They entered the private dining room; the space was relatively small, a single fireplace at the far end more than enough to warm it on cold nights. It was a more intimate space, meant only for the royal family, where Anna and Elsa had shared dinner with their parents, until the accident, when Elsa started taking dinner in her room. Since exposing her magic and opening the gates, Elsa had made it a point to take her meals as often as she could with her sister in the room once more. Elsa slid into her seat at the head of the table and Anna settled in the seat to her right.

Anna wrinkled her nose. "You're still working too much. Especially if you don't have the time to tell me a story."

"A long story," Elsa offered.

"An important one," Anna persisted.

Elsa cocked her head, unable to argue that point. They both fell quiet as the servants brought out a lunch of Smørrebrød, stacked with smoked salmon, radishes, and other herbs. She picked up her knife and fork and cut into the opened-face sandwich. "I actually wanted to talk to you about something else."

Anna shoved a large piece of fish into her mouth, peering at her sister.

Elsa chewed thoughtfully for a moment, organizing her thoughts and figuring out exactly what she wanted to say. "I'm taking a trip up to Valle next week. I should be back in five days."

Anna perked up, her attention drawn away from her lunch. "Valle? Why Valle?"

Her chest tightened, and a light frost collected on her silverware. Elsa set the offending cutlery down, flexing her fingers into fists on the tabletop. "The storm—my storm—destroyed most of the crops in Arendelle. The farmers were able to plant a few vegetables for a late harvest, but for most of them it was too late in the season. Nothing will be ready for harvest before the first frost."

"Elsa, that was not your fault—"

She held up a hand. "Regardless, Arendelle doesn't have enough food to make it through the winter. Fortunately, the storm didn't spread much further than the surrounding area and as luck would have it, Valle had a bountiful harvest this year. Instead of selling off the excess to neighboring kingdoms as they normally do, it will come here to Arendelle."

"Well, that's great." Anna frowned. "But, why are you going?"

Elsa sighed patiently. "Valle normally makes a decent profit from the harvest. With it coming here, they'll lose this season's profit. I'm going there to work out a fair deal with the Baron. One that will hopefully satisfy all parties."

"I understand that, but why are _you_ going?" Anna leaned in, brows drawn together in confusion and concern. "Don't you have people who can . . . do all of that—" her sister waved a hand between them "—for you? I mean, no offense, Elsa, but you've kind of been running yourself ragged these last few months. You have to take a break at some point."

"Anna." Elsa pulled her shoulders back, sitting taller in her seat. "Regardless of intent or events leading up to it, I made this mess. I alone destroyed Arendelle's crops, and I will personally see to it that our people make it through this."

* * *

Gerda walked at a brisk pace through the castle hallways, carrying a silver tray with coffee and a light breakfast. She ignored the bleary-eyed staff, pausing only to give orders at a few as she passed. The day began a few hours earlier than normal due to the queen's imminent departure for Valle. She would awaken before dawn today, and Gerda would not stand for the castle to not be prepared, or for half the staff to still be sleeping while the queen was up. The staff was to be up before the queen in the morning and permitted to move to their own quarters only after she retired for the night. That was how it had for been for generations and would always be.

Gerda had taken care of the household for many years, starting as a maid. Then, when Princess Elsa was old enough to need one, she became her personal lady's maid. Though things became increasingly difficult after the 'incident' that resulted in the gates being shut, Gerda had been one of a few who remained on staff, and one of even fewer to know of Elsa's magic. It had broken her heart to see the sisters separated, but it was even more painful to watch the bold, mischievous child she knew Elsa to be, withdraw and isolate herself.

As much trouble as the Queen's Winter had caused, perhaps, in the end, it happened for the better. The gates were open, and there was no more hiding. Elsa was slowly starting to come out of that self-imposed isolation and to become the young woman, and Queen, Gerda always knew she could be. She just wished the fates could have spared the sisters the painful journey it took to get where they were now. Given the option, Gerda would protect those girls from everything and while she understood that wasn't possible, she would still do all she could to help them through whatever came.

Gerda pulled herself from her musings and stopped at the queen's bedroom door, balancing the service tray in one hand as she quietly turned the knob. She set the tray on the nightstand, then moved to the curtains and drew them open. It was still dark, but the northern lights cast a soft glow into the large room. Being a light sleeper, even the small amount of light entering the window was enough to cause the queen to frown in her sleep and attempt to burrow further into the blankets.

Gerda smiled. "Your Majesty?" Most people assumed the young woman was a morning person, but it wasn't nearly as true as many, including her own sister, believed.

"Mmm," Elsa replied sleepily, rolling onto her back and digging her knuckles into her eyes.

There was no doubt about it, the queen was generally late to bed and early to rise, but more from necessity than choice. When Elsa was younger, she had confessed to Gerda that she enjoyed sleeping in when given the opportunity but couldn't stand to oversleep. Even as a princess, there was just too much to do, and the day felt wasted if she slept too long. In that regard, she was the polar opposite of her sister, who could, and regularly did, sleep till late in the morning, only to wake in a whirlwind of energy and attack the day with an impressive vigor.

Elsa pushed herself upright, turning with an unfocused gaze to the large windows, giving the pitch black sky something akin to a sleepy glare. "Morning, Gerda." Her words heavily slurred with sleep.

"Good morning, Your Majesty." Gerda struggled not to smile as she walked to the queen's wardrobe and started pulling out her traveling clothes. She felt privileged to see this side of the queen, one no one else—with the rare occasion of her sister—got to see. It reminded her that this young woman, raised to rule a kingdom with indisputable grace, authority, and command, was still human. Despite her insistence of pretending otherwise.

"I brought up a light breakfast for you, ma'am," she said. "I wasn't sure if you'd what something heavier before your trip." She pulled traveling clothes from the wardrobe - linen shirt, leggings, and a knee-length white coat with light blue stitching - and hung them on the outside.

This would be her first trip outside of Arendelle since she was seven years old, and the longest she'd ever embarked on. It would be two days to Valle, and two days back. Quite a journey for the first ride in over thirteen years.

Gerda pulled a pair of comfortable boots out from the bottom of the wardrobe, setting them in front of the closet. "Your father usually preferred a light meal before traveling."

"Did he?" Elsa asked, perking up at bit. She reached to the nightstand and picked up the cup of coffee, drinking deeply.

Gerda nodded. "Yes, ma'am. He didn't like to admit it, but he'd get sick if he ate a heavy meal before traveling. Your mother, on the other hand, always enjoyed a large breakfast before going out. She was more like your sister in that regard, a whirlwind of endless energy. It wasn't until after you were born that she became calmer, more refined. Though she maintained that limitless energy."

"I didn't know that," Elsa whispered. She smiled at the matron and slid her legs over the side of the bed. "Thank you, Gerda, this will be fine."

"I've laid out your clothes, the carriage will be ready to go by the time you finished. Is there anything I can do for you, ma'am?"

"No, Gerda, thank you." Elsa stood up and set her cup down. "You may go."

Gerda bowed, then left the room, closing the door softly behind her. She walked down the hallway, in the direction of the servant's area of the castle. She'd just entered one of the narrow hallways when she encountered Kai, the castle's steward.

Where Gerda managed the household staff and acted as lady's maid to the queen, Kai managed the daily operations of the castle and the queen's schedule. Normally, multiple people handled the duties they performed, but increasing the castle's staff had been slow-going. There were several layers of approval a potential employee had to go through, and both she and Kai worried about overwhelming the girls with too many unknown faces at one time. The queen in particular had more than enough on her plate. Neither she nor Kai complained as they were not keen on delegating the duties they had performed for the last two decades, even if it meant an increased workload as the castle gates opened.

"Is she up?" Kai asked.

Gerda nodded, "She should be ready shortly."

Kai nodded. "Excellent, the only thing left is some papers and books she requested to work on during the trip."

Gerda frowned disapprovingly. "She's planning on working during the trip?"

"Would you expect anything less?"

She tilted her head. "No. Perhaps hoping . . ." She shrugged.

"If it makes you feel better, I have a feeling she may not be getting as much work done on the ride as she plans."

"Oh?"

Kai tipped his head, grinning mischievously. "Someone may have suggested to the princess that her majesty may do well with some company on the trip."

"And?"

"She was up and packed an hour ago. I have no doubt she's already in the courtyard waiting for her sister."

They knew it was not their place to interfere with how the royal family conducted themselves, but Kai had witnessed their births and watched them grow, had been there for the good and the bad. There was a special place in his heart for the girls. Anna and Elsa were as close to daughters as he would ever have, and he would do whatever he could, whenever he could, to watch over and protect them. Even if that sometimes meant protecting them from themselves.

Kai moved down the hallway to the queen's study to collect the box he'd put together the night before. With both sisters going to Valle, the staff would essentially have the next four days off, and he was sure with how hard they had been working, they'd appreciate that. He could take the extra time to work with Gerda, make sure duties were delegated more evenly among the servants and perhaps see to hiring more help.

He grabbed the box, handed it off to a footman to take down to the carriage. He then proceeded to the queen's quarters and knocked lightly on the door. "Your Majesty?"

"One moment," floated through the thick door before it opened and the queen stepped out, her hair pulled into its usual braid and dressed comfortably for the day of travel. "Good morning, Kai," she greeted him with a smile.

"Good morning, Your Majesty," he replied, bowing.

"How are you?"

"Very well, ma'am, and you?" He waited for the queen before following a step behind.

"Good. Well . . ." She pressed a hand against her stomach. "A bit nervous, I think."

"I'm sure everything will be fine, Your Majesty."

As they descended the spiral staircase, Elsa smiled gratefully. "I'm sure you're looking forward to the next few days with no schedules to manage or guests to see to. Unless Anna is planning a party while I'm gone." She chuckled, then turned toward Kai. "Keep an eye on her while I'm away. I know it's a lot to ask, but try to steer her away from trouble."

Kai took his time responding, deciding that feigning ignorance was the best course of action. "Is the princess not going to Valle with you?"

Elsa laughed. "No, she'd have to get up before noon for that." Her smile faded, and she narrowed her gaze at Kai. Despite her years of isolation, the queen had an uncanny knack for reading people, a talent that left some as unnerved as her magic did. She quirked an eyebrow. "She's already in the courtyard, isn't she?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Bags packed and loaded?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Elsa sighed. "Well then, I suppose we shouldn't keep her highness waiting."

Kai couldn't help but grin as they continued down the stairs and into the courtyard. A natural chill was in the air as the first rays of sunlight peeked over the mountains.

"Elsa!" Anna jumped up from where she'd been leaning against the carriage. Already dressed for a long day of travel with a comfortable knee-length woolen dress of red and grey and matching leggings peeking from the top of her boots. She cocked her head and appraised her sister. "I didn't know you owned pants."

"Anna, what are you doing?"

"I'm going with you. Obviously." Anna held up her hand before Elsa could argue. "I know, I know, you want to do this alone. But you're not alone. Not anymore." She shrugged. "And you're just gonna have to deal with that."

"Anna—"

"And!" Anna cut her sister off once more, an act only she could get away with. "With both of us gone, the entire staff gets, like, five days off. If nothing else, I think they deserve that."

Four days, Kai corrected silently, as they would spend the day before the sisters' return ensuring the castle was in order, but he wasn't about to contradict her out loud.

"Anna . . ." Elsa pressed her lips into a thin line. "It will not be a very exciting trip, you know."

Anna shrugged. "That's okay. You'll be there."

Even from a distance, Kai could see the tension melt out of the Elsa's shoulders, her face light up with a soft smile.

"You sure you want to come?"

Anna nodded enthusiastically. "Of course! Besides, Kristoff is going to be up in the mountains all week and Olaf went with him."

"Oh, I see. I'm what, third choice?" Elsa teased.

"Technically fourth. If you count Sven."

Gerda stepped up next to Kai as the girls bantered. The two shared a knowing smile, their hearts filled to the brim at seeing the sisters reunited and genuinely happy after such a long separation.


	3. Breathe

Elsa sat longways on the carriage bench, feet up and knees tented, balancing paperwork on her thighs like a makeshift desk. She'd given up on sitting "properly" after the first six hours. The carriage was comfortable enough without being lavish or ostentatious. The seats were soft, covered in a deep purple velvet and just long enough to stretch out.

Having spent the last thirteen years almost strictly confined to a single space, she made sure to bring enough work along so not to get bored, but she'd grossly underestimated how uncomfortable being confined in so small a space for an extended period would be.

A box filled with items she brought to work on sat on the floor next to her. She pulled a stack of folded papers bound by a length of twine—missives and letters from other kingdoms that she hadn't had the chance to read before now. She couldn't write any responses in the rocking carriage, but she could at least read through and organize the letters by priority. Later, when they reached Valle, she could draw up responses.

On the cushioned bench across from her, Anna reclined in a similar position, leaning against the side of the carriage. Every few minutes, a soft snore broke the otherwise peaceful quiet. Despite the early hour of their departure, the younger woman had been a ball of energy as they settled into the carriage; her excitement had lasted most of the first day. The sisters spent the hours talking about things they hadn't been able to over the last three months. For the most part they kept things light, including the full story of why Elsa owed Kristoff a brand-new sled, plus supplies. Considering the cost, she probably should have asked sooner, but they were finally together again for the first time in thirteen years; her sister could have requested the moon and Elsa would have done everything in her power it give it to her. She still would.

By the time they reached Lauvdal, the halfway point between Arendelle and Valle, Anna's excitement had worn down to restlessness. The Lord of Lauvdal had been ecstatic to receive them, though Elsa was sure it disappointed him they'd be leaving again before first light. It had left little time in town, but enough for Anna to explore the town—much to her guard's dismay—and for them both to eat a hot meal and get a decent night's sleep.

Once they were back on the road to Valle, Anna's excitement had been less palpable, a more quiet, but still enthusiastic energy. Though she still fidgeted restlessly, she was uncharacteristically silent watching the lush scenery pass outside the carriage as they moved into less populated areas of the kingdom. It was sometime before noon when she drifted off, head bobbing on her neck as she fruitlessly fought against the cozy warmth of the carriage and the enticing pull of sleep.

As Elsa watched as Anna shifted in her sleep, the blanket she'd wrapped around herself slipped to her lap. Elsa smiled and reached over to pull the blanket back up to her sister's shoulders, tucking her in. She continued to watch as Anna settled under the blanket with a contented sigh, then pulled apart the twine on the stack of letters and got down to work while she could.

* * *

A dog was licking her nose. At least, that's what it felt like as Anna woke from her nap. She'd made it as long as she could, excited to spend some quality time with her sister and see parts of the kingdom she hadn't visited in years. But between Elsa's stubborn desire to complete as much paperwork as possible during the trip and the generous lunch packed for them by the kitchen staff at Lauvdal, she hadn't stood a chance, quickly lulled to sleep by the gentle rocking of the carriage.

She untangled an arm from beneath the cozy wool blanket and dragged a clumsy hand across her face. There was a cold wetness there, melting as it touched her nose and cheeks, running to her chin in skinny rivulets. So, not a dog, obviously. Anna worked her eyes open and frowned. It was snowing. Inside the carriage. She pushed herself upright from where she'd tipped against the side, swiping more snowflakes from her face as she glanced over to her sister in the opposite seat.

Elsa hadn't seemed to notice Anna was awake, staring with a faraway look at a piece of parchment in hand, her mouth twisted in thought. Anna had seen this look before, and she didn't need the light flurry of snowflakes floating around her head to confirm; something in the letter had upset her.

"Elsa?" When Anna got no response, she frowned and straightened on the bench seat. The blanket pooled on her lap as she leaned forward. "Elsa," she said again, louder.

Elsa's gaze snapped up. Her eyes cleared as she noticed the flurry drifting around her. "Oh," she said, cheeks red, "sorry." With a flick of her wrist, the snowflakes vanished and the temperature in the carriage rose back to normal.

"You okay?" Anna craned her neck in a futile attempt to glimpse the small writing on the note her sister was holding.

"Fine," Elsa responded, so quietly Anna almost missed it entirely.

"Uh-huh." Anna nodded. "So, you normally make flurries when you're fine and happy?"

"Yes, actually" her sister replied, gaze drifting back down to the paper in her hand. "I did. When I was younger."

Anna gaped. "What?"

Elsa folded the paper and sat up straighter, offered her sister a weak smile. "Fear and anger weren't the only emotions that would bring my power out. My magic and my emotions are, it seems, unfortunately bound to one another. So, happiness, excitement, joy . . . they used to cause my magic to manifest just as much as any negative emotion."

She knew fear and anger caused Elsa's magic to manifest, sometimes in unexpected ways, but she'd never considered positive emotions like joy or happiness would do the same. She frowned as her sister's choice of words sank in. "Used to?" she asked carefully, knowing that her best intentions weren't always enough to overtake Elsa's closed-off nature and thirteen years of isolation. Elsa might no longer hide her powers, but she was still hesitant to use them, with few exceptions, like the ice-skating rink in the courtyard roughly two months after she'd thawed Arendelle. Something that had taken some encouragement on Anna's part.

A month after the coronation and thawing of Arendelle, Anna convinced her sister to allow her to plan a celebration for the people, for the opening of the gates and reconnection of Arendelle to the world, for the ascension of their new queen, and for the great thaw.

Elsa had been open to the idea of a festival to celebrate the open gates, but hesitant to bring attention to herself or—as people called it, much to her mortification—The Queen's Winter. In the end, they compromised. They would celebrate the open gates of Arendelle and the end of winter, along with Anna and Kristoff's actions that had led to the end of that unseasonal blizzard. Understandably, Kristoff wasn't happy about being dragged into the spotlight, but worried that if he said no to the queen of Arendelle, he'd end up as a frozen lawn ornament.

Elsa had been concerned that any display of her powers would only further scare their people, but Anna knew that showing the people of Arendelle that her sister's magic was as beautiful as its wielder would go a long way toward their acceptance of a magical Queen. Anna couldn't have been more right; the celebration had gone off without a hitch, the day better than she had hoped for. More importantly, great strides were made in helping her sister feel accepted.

Elsa tapped the folded piece of paper against her knee, looking lost in thought as she stared out the carriage window. "Father helped me learn to conceal everything. Not just negative emotions, but positive ones, too. Truthfully, it wasn't nearly as difficult."

Anna stiffened, her gaze narrowing. "You're saying Mama and Papa wouldn't let you feel anything?" Her chest tightened, frustration with her parents rising. She loved them dearly and cherished every memory, but couldn't help feeling angry about the lasting damaged they had caused.

Elsa brought her hands together against her stomach, trapping the parchment there. "No, Anna. They didn't stop me from feeling. They just . . . taught me how to keep an emotion from getting the better of me. My contact with anyone aside from them was carefully controlled, to avoid any outbursts. Or accidents."

"Well, we saw how well that worked out," Anna muttered.

Elsa frowned. "Anna—"

"Oh, come on, Elsa," she cut her sister off, her frustration bubbling over. "I'm pretty sure they couldn't have handled the whole thing worse if they tried."

"Anna," Elsa reprimanded with a single word. "They did the best they could. It wasn't easy for them, either."

Anna folded her arms over her chest and flopped against the seatback. She wasn't sure she agreed, but didn't want to argue any further about something neither of them could change. She turned to the window and spent a few quiet moments watching the scenery pass. Then she remembered what had started the conversation and looked back to Elsa. Her sister was wonderful at deflecting attention to where she wanted it. It was part of what made Elsa a formidable politician, but Anna wasn't going to let her off the original train of thought, not this time. "So, you wanna tell me what's wrong?"

"What?" Elsa's brows drew together in confusion.

Anna pointed to the letter. "Your snow flurries woke me up, and I've seen that look before. It was definitely not the look of someone who is fine and happy."

Elsa dropped her gaze to the letter, her lips pressed into a thin line. She shook her head. "It's nothing for you to worry about."

Anna frowned. "You're keeping secrets. Even after you promised."

Her sister sighed. "Anna, as cliché as it sounds, I am the queen, and even my secrets have secrets."

"Not from me."

"Yes, even from you."

Anna leaned back against her seat, feeling hurt and shut out by her sister's admission. "I thought I was more important than that."

Elsa sighed, her shoulders dropping. "Anna, it's not that you aren't important to me. You are the most important thing to me."

"You just don't trust me."

Elsa's jaw dropped, her mouth falling open in what would, under different circumstances, be a comical display for someone normally so poised. "Not trust you?" She swiveled on the bench and leaned across the small space, taking her sister's hands into her cold ones. "Anna, you are my sister and best friend. There is no one in the world I trust more. If I have made you feel otherwise, I am sorry. My intent has always been to protect you, not make you feel unimportant."

"You don't have to protect me, you know."

Elsa smiled warmly. "I'm your sister. If I could, I would protect you from anything and everything." She released her sister's hands and sat back on the bench. She retrieved up the letter she'd dropped and held it out to Anna. "But if it means that much to you, here."

Anna hesitated in taking the letter, but once she did, she quickly unfolded the paper, eager to see what had unsettled her sister so much.

While the letter seemed cold and not overly friendly, it wasn't something that should have caused the reaction Anna had seen when she woke. She looked up at Elsa with a question clear in her eyes.

Elsa smiled tightly as she took the letter back. "They address the letter to the Snow Queen, rather than to Arendelle, or Queen Elsa."

"And that's bad?"

Her sister dipped her chin. "Using the nickname Snow Queen tells me they are not writing to me as a leader, but as someone with the ability to lock down an entire kingdom in an eternal winter. They are addressing me as a threat who happens to be a queen rather than the Queen of Arendelle. They meant it as a slight. And a threat."

Anna blinked. "You got all that from the first two words?"

"Consider this a lesson in politics." Elsa studied the letter as she spoke. "Leaders rarely make outright threats against one another. Instead, everything is subtle, flowery words meant to hide sharp thorns, though you always know what lies just beneath the petals."

Anna raised a hand to her temple, sagging in her seat. "No wonder you always looked stressed. That sounds exhausting. Why doesn't everyone just speak, you know, plainly?"

Elsa laughed, though it didn't reach her eyes. "That would be lovely. But this is how the game is played. Veiled threats behind a charming smile. Political maneuvering, manipulation, blackmail, moves and countermoves. This is the life we were born into, and it's something which I hope to spare you from as much and as long as I can."

* * *

By the time the carriage rolled through the gates of Valle's estate, the mood inside had lightened considerably. Elsa had allowed Anna to help sort through the remaining letters and answered any questions her younger sister had. Relief surged through her as the carriage pulled to a stop; as much as Elsa had enjoyed nearly two days of uninterrupted quality time with Anna, she was just as happy for the opportunity to escape the claustrophobic space and stretch her legs.

This was the first time she was traveling as the queen, but she was fully aware of the fanfare involved in receiving a monarch. She was not a fan of the extravagant ceremony of it all and had always hated being the center of attention, but as Queen she understood it was an uncomfortable awkwardness she would always have to bear.

Baron Oskar and his wife Adelaida had greeted them, flanked by two diagonal rows of smartly dressed people who lined either side of the arched stone doorway. Before leaving Arendelle, Elsa had done some reading up on the customs and courtesy of the noble caste. She wasn't necessarily ignorant to them, but her lack of travel experience left the information in her mind dusty and second-hand, and she'd felt the need for a refresher. She knew that the row of people on the right of the door was the household staff, with their butler at the head of the line. The shorter line on the left consisted of the Baron's relatives; she guessed his two daughters and youngest son.

After the brief introductions, she and Anna were shown to the guest rooms and given time to settle in, bathe, and change into proper attire before dinner.

Alone in her spacious guest quarters, Elsa tightened her hands into fists, then loosened them with a slow exhale. Dinner began service in only a few minutes. She preferred to arrive to the table early, but it was something her father had cautioned her against as she grew older and closer to the reality of her own rule; once she, as Queen, arrived, any event or dinner would swiftly begin regardless of previous scheduling. Once she cleared her plate, that course would be deemed complete, and anyone she was dining with would respectfully set aside their own cutlery, no matter how much remained on their own plate. She loved her people and her kingdom, but these were the parts of being Queen she hated the most, how they watched and dissected every move she made, how it set the tone for everyone around her. It was enough pressure to trigger a full-blown anxiety attack in even the most level-headed, normal person. Another thing she could not afford to let slip.

She glanced at the clock on the wall and decided to wait another few minutes before leaving her room, giving others enough time to gather in the dining hall. More specifically, giving her sister as much time as possible to get ready.

She crossed the hall and rapped her knuckles against her sister's door. The door swung open immediately and revealed a fresh-faced and fully dressed Anna. Her sister was ready, on time, for once.

Anna greeted her with a big smile linking her arm through Elsa's, as she set out down the corridor, confidently leading the way toward the dining hall.

Elsa raised an eyebrow. "Do you know where we're going?"

"Of course!" Anna replied cheerfully. "Down the stairs, then to the left hallway, second door."

Elsa's couldn't recall anyone giving them directions, but they must have. Perhaps she was more tired than she originally thought.

They paused at the door to the dining hall and dutifully allowed the footman to open it for them. Elsa entered first as the footman announced her arrival, and her sister followed closely behind. The party around the long, polished table stayed standing until Elsa took her seat at the center, with the Baron on her left and Anna on the right. She gave a small nod of her head, signaling for the dinner party to take their seats. The footmen immediately jumped into action, pouring drinks and bringing out the first course.

Elsa used the cover of the bustling service to look around the table. Aside from Oskar and his family, there were a handful of faces she didn't know, likely Valle's lesser lords who served under the barony. Roughly twenty people in total made up the dinner party. The clink of glasses, cutlery and lively buzz of conversation brought to mind the last sizeable gathering she'd attended, her first in thirteen years, and how that had turned out.

Elsa twisted the napkin on her lap where the guests couldn't see. A warm hand touched her arm, and she barely managed not to jump out of her skin. She followed the hand up to her sister's face.

Anna squeezed her arm and offered a reassuring smile. Elsa returned the smile and released a slow breath. Suddenly feeling relieved, Anna had invited herself on the trip.

"Your Majesty," The baroness Adelaida spoke up from her spot across the table from her husband. "I hope while you are here you have a chance to go into town for the Vetnaetr festival."

"What's Vetnaetr?" Anna asked, leaning to the side to allow a bowl of soup to be placed in front of her.

"It's an old Winter festival," Elsa answered for her, "the name means 'winter nights.' It used to be one of three most important festivals celebrated by the Vikings, if I remember correctly?" Elsa searched her memory for details about the festival. It had been a long time since she studied the old traditions. Most of them hadn't been practiced in centuries. "I wasn't aware anyone still celebrated Vetnaetr."

Oskar nodded. "That's correct, though we don't follow most of the old traditions. It's more of an excuse for people to get together, to tell stores and sell goods. And drink too much ale, of course," he said good-naturedly. "Your Majesties have great timing. The festival has just started and will go on for three more days."

Anna clapped her hands together and started excitedly chatting away with Adelaida about the festival. Elsa chuckled as she listened to her sister, happy to see her excited and enjoying herself. It amazed her how easy it was for Anna to fit in with and befriend everyone she met.

The Baron leaned in. "Your Majesty," he whispered, "I wanted to express my gratitude for your willingness to travel here to Valle when you could have just as easily sent someone in your stead. I can only imagine how busy you must be."

Elsa smiled. "You give me too much credit, Lord Oskar. It is I who should thank you. Your crops will keep Arendelle from going hungry this winter. Traveling here and personally ensuring Valle receive a fair deal is the absolute least I could do."

"Your Majesty, I don't believe you give yourself enough credit." The Baron studied her a long moment, like he was talking stock. She struggled not to fidget under his appraisal. "You are so very much like your father."

Her chest warmed from the praise, chasing away the lingering ice in her veins. "You're to kind," she said, blushing up to her ears.

"You probably don't know this, but many years ago, perhaps just before you were born, Valle was stricken with a terrible disease. This disease not only destroyed our crops but many of the livestock that grazed in the fields."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

Oskar nodded. "If it wasn't for your father, Valle would have starved that winter. In sharing our crop with Arendelle, we are merely repaying a long overdue debt. A debt that our people are more than happy to pay."

As the party moved to the next course, conversation flowed easily around her, and Elsa was content to witness rather than take part, listening with mild interest. She settled in her chair and sipped her wine.

"Why don't I get any wine?" Anna frowned, eyeing her sister's glass. "I'm old enough."

"Barely," Elsa replied with a smile. "You don't like wine, Anna."

"You don't know that," Anna insisted with a pout.

Elsa sighed, feeling herself cave. After everything they'd been through, she couldn't help but spoil her sister. "If it means that much, you can have a sip of mine."

"Really?"

"A small sip," she reiterated.

"What does it taste like?" Anna leaned forward and picked up the glass, then drank much more than a small sip. Her eyes widened, gaze darting around frantically.

Elsa shot her sister a dangerous look. "Anna," she whispered harshly, "don't you dare spit that out."

Anna froze, scrunching her face as she concentrated on choking down the mouthful of wine. She immediately reached for her glass of water, but in her frantic effort to rid her mouth of the taste, clumsily knocked the glass aside instead.

As the glass bounced off her sister's knuckles, Elsa startled and threw her hands out. Ice instantly encased the glass, spiraling upwards and freezing the displaced water as it spilled into the air. Tiny snowflakes and crystals glittered around the frozen, tilted glass, like an icy sculpture in the middle of the table.

It took a moment for Elsa to note the dead silence in the room. Then, she realized what she had just done, and she cupped her hands protectively against her chest.

Every eye in the room, including those of the servants, was on her. She tried to remind herself that it was okay, that she didn't need to hide her magic. Everyone here knew of her powers, but the old, well-ingrained fears wrapped a constricting band around her chest until she could hardly draw a breath.

Oskar leaned forward to inspect the frozen glass. "Your Majesty, may I compliment you on your quick reflexes. If it had been me, I'm not sure I could have moved so fast, magic or not."

Adelaida smiled across the table at her husband. "Darling, if we were at the mercy of your quick reflexes, I fear we'd all be wet and half-dried again before you first moved."

The Baron winked at his wife then looked over his shoulder, gesturing to the butler. "Carson, would you get the princess a fresh glass?"

Elsa chuckled at the Baroness's good-natured teasing, feeling the tension in the room break. They replaced the frozen glass with a fresh one, and the conversation started up once more. She took a steadying breath and allowed her hands to slide to her lap. "Thank you," she whispered to the Baron.

He merely smiled. "I'm afraid I don't know to what Your Majesty is referring to."

Elsa returned his smile then turned to her sister who had the good grace to look both bashful and apologetic. The Baron's youngest son, Danel, sitting across from Anna, saved the younger woman from having to apologize.

"Princess Anna," he said, "It's good to have you back in Valle. We've sorely missed your presence these last three years."

Elsa looked at her sister, the fear from just moments ago replaced by surprise. "Back in Valle?"

Anna smiled sheepishly. "I may have been here once or twice before."

"Once or twice? More like once a year for a week since we were . . . ten, I believe?" Danel turned his attention to Elsa. "You didn't know?"

"No," Elsa replied, staring at her sister as she processed the information. "I didn't."

Danel chuckled. "I'm surprised. The mischief your sister got into was legendary. There was never a dull moment with her around."

Elsa broke her gaze from Anna, dipping her head with a chuckle. "I can imagine. I assure you, not much has changed on that front." She took a bite of her dinner, chewing thoughtfully. Their parents forced them apart as they grew up, but she had no idea Anna ever left the castle, much less traveled this far for an entire week, every year. She felt a tightness in her chest, unsure what to make of this piece of information. Perhaps she'd have to wait until they retired for the night and get the full story from her sister.


	4. Letting Go

A peaceful smile lingered on Elsa's face as she pushed open the door to her room. Aside from the "wine incident" the evening had been an unexpectedly enjoyable experience. No one in the dinner party commented on or asked her about her magic afterward, for which she was grateful. She knew her magic was nothing to be ashamed of, and three months had passed since she had inadvertently exposed it, but thirteen years of hiding her powers was not a simple thing to shake. She was still unsure how people would react, meeting and seeing her in person, and it always seemed easier to avoid the topic where possible.

She had just begun to pull the ties on her corset when there was a knock at the door. A familiar pattern of raps that widened her smile. "Come in," she called.

Her sister poked her head into the room. "Hey." She entered and closed the door behind her. "Sorry about the wine thing."

Elsa raised an eyebrow. "I did say a small sip."

Anna wrinkled her nose, moving behind her, and started wordlessly lacing her corset. "I don't know how you drink the stuff. It tasted like leather and vinegar."

Elsa chuckled, then released a deep sigh as the corset came off. "That's better." There was nothing quite like the relief of being able to breathe properly again. "Whoever invented corsets should be drawn and quartered. Queen's orders."

Anna chucked softly, standing to the side, fiddling with the sleeves of her nightgown. Elsa took a moment to appreciate that somehow her sister had already changed her clothes and couldn't help but feel impressed over how quickly she managed to do so. Practice, she thought, recalling how often Anna overslept.

Elsa watched as her sister seemed unsure about something. She pulled the pins from her hair, letting it fall down around her shoulders, waiting to see if Anna would come out and say what was bothering her.

When Anna continued to fidget, Elsa took pity on the girl. "Anna," she said, laying her own nightgown across the bed. "What's wrong?"

Anna rolled her lips between her teeth. "You're not upset, are you?" she asked in an uncharacteristically small voice.

Caught off-guard by the question, Elsa cocked her head. "About the wine? No, of course—"

"No." Anna shook her head. "I mean about, you know."

Elsa sat on the edge of the mattress, staring curiously at her sister. "I'm afraid I don't."

"About me . . . having been here before."

"Oh." Elsa pressed her lips together. She wasn't sure how she felt about that bit of information. She wasn't upset; at least, not with her parents, and certainly not with Anna. It wouldn't be fair to them. Just because she isolated and confined herself to her room didn't mean that Anna had to be. Part of her was happy to know that Anna hadn't been as alone as she had thought, and that her sister had a friend, even if it was for a brief amount of time.

If she was being really honest with herself, Elsa knew exactly what was bothering her. Despite their physical separation in the castle, she had always done her best to keep tabs on what was going on in her little sister's life, gathering information from wherever, whoever she could. Often, Gerda and Kai were Elsa's informants for what mischief Anna was causing throughout the castle, and her mother and father for everything else.

Learning now that for one week each year Anna had come up to Valle without Elsa knowing about it cut deeply. There had been so many closed doors standing between them, but for the first time, she truly felt shut out of a part of her sister's life. The fierceness of hurt she was feeling surprised her, but knew she had no place to say anything to her sister about it, because this was only a fraction of the hurt Anna must have felt for the past thirteen years. Her sister had carried this pain for most of her life, and Elsa wasn't about to burden her with more.

She gestured for Anna to take a seat next to her on the bed. "No, Anna, I'm not upset. I'm glad you had someone."

Anna sank onto the mattress and bumped Elsa's shoulder with her own. "Oh, good. I wasn't sure. You're hard to read sometimes . . . most of the time . . . all the time, really."

Elsa laughed. "I'll try to work on it." She leaned back on the bed. "So, tell me about your visits to Valle. How did they start?"

"Oh, it's a long story." Anna waved a hand. "Right before my tenth birthday, Papa and I got into a huge fight. I yelled at him, said some nasty stuff, and he yelled back. Then he sent me to my room without dessert."

Elsa sat up. "Yelled? I don't think I've ever even heard Father raise his voice."

"He didn't really, unless we were talking about yo—" Anna threw her hands over her mouth, but it was too late.

"Me?" Elsa turned toward her sister. "You and Father were arguing about. . . me?"

Anna averted her gaze and that was more than enough of an answer for Elsa. She looked down at her hands with a sigh. Her powers were more a curse than anything, causing the people around her problems and pain. She curled her fingers in and made a fist, wishing—not for the first time and certainly not the last—that she had not been born with this magic. Or at least, that she knew why she had been. Without raising her eyes, she sighed. "How often did you and Papa argue about me?"

Anna chewed the inside of her cheek before answering. "It wasn't often. The older I got, the more I learned to just . . . accept how things were."

Elsa nodded, unsure what else there was to say on the matter. She took a deep breath and released it slowly. "So, how did you end up in Valle?"

"I got so angry at Papa, I refused to speak to him for three days, and that of course made him irritated with me. He had some business to attend to here, so Mama suggested he take me with him and not come back for a week. I think she was tired of us."

Elsa cracked a smile; their mother was a force to be reckoned with when pushed, and she knew a "suggestion" from the woman was more an order.

"Anyway, once we got up here, I was so excited to find that there were kids my age to play with." Anna visibly relaxed as she chattered on about the Baron's children. "Danel is the youngest of them all, so he's the one I was closest with. The others are all a few years older so, you know, they didn't play with us as much, but Danel and I used to get into all sorts of trouble. I think Papa saw an opportunity for me to cause problems for someone other than the castle staff, and visiting Valle just became a tradition. Sometimes, bribery," she said with a chuckle.

Anna practically jumped off the bed and spun around, grinning widely at Elsa. "Soooo. . ."

Elsa raised her eyebrows. "So?"

Anna put her hands behind her back and rocked on the balls of her feet. "Sooo. . ." she prompted again.

Elsa folded her arms over her chest. "Anna."

Her sister gaped like Elsa was missing something obvious. "The festival?"

Elsa cocked her head. "What about it?"

"Danel said he and his sisters are going down tomorrow morning, and he wanted to know if we wanted to go along." Anna clasped her hands in front of her chest like a pleading child. "Can we go, Elsa? Please, oh please, say yes."

Elsa couldn't help but chuckle. Her sister's undying enthusiasm could be infectious. "Of course, you can go."

"Yes!" Anna pumped a fist in the air, then froze. "Wait, what?" She frowned and dropped her hand to her side. "You're coming too, right?"

"Anna—"

"If you say you're working—"

"You know I have to. I have a meeting with Lord Oskar in the morning. It's the reason we're here in Valle."

Anna huffed. "All you do is work." She knelt in front of Elsa and grabbed her hands. "You need to relax. At least once in every great while. The kingdom won't fall apart because you spent a day having fun."

Elsa bit her lip. She knew Anna was right on multiple fronts and had a hard time saying no to her sister. She hated to disappoint Anna, but there were responsibilities to her people that had to come first. "Fine," she said slowly.

Anna jumped with a squeal. "Really?"

"I still have to meet with the Baron, but I will join you at the festival after lunch. Okay?"

Anna pressed her lips into a line and scrunched up her face, considering her sister's terms. "Fine," she relented, then jabbed a finger at Elsa. "But I'm holding you to it. After lunch—you, me, and a whole festival."

* * *

Elsa folded her hands in front of her, her mind churning with thoughts as she walked through the estate's garden. She had spent the first half of the morning with the Baron reviewing the profits, fees, and taxes collected and paid for the last four year's harvest. She collected the information, taking diligent notes. They then discussed the cost and logistics of transporting the agreed-upon food stuffs to Arendelle.

The meeting hadn't taken nearly as long as she expected. She had sent a letter before her arrival that laid out everything she needed, but she was still pleasantly surprised that the Baron was so well-prepared and organized, making it a simple matter to locate what she was looking for.

After they finished the Baron once more expressed his surprise and admiration that she would travel all the way to Valle to oversee the transport, and her attention to detail in making sure they were compensated fairly for the harvest. Oskar had pointed out that as Queen, technically the crops in Valle already belonged to the crown, and there was therefore no trade required for the crop. It was the reason he was so surprised at the trouble she was going through. She dismissed his words with a patient smile and a wave of her hand. She wasn't about to hurt one town to save another. It was important that she set things right. Or at least, as right as she could.

It was easy to see why her father had liked the Baron so much. He was easy to work with, and had a loud, infectious laugh. Despite that, the meeting left Elsa with a heavy heart, knowing Arendelle's current problems—both regarding food and diplomacy—were of her own making. She'd panicked, lost control of her magic, and brought harm to those she had sworn to protect.

Elsa passed from the gardens to the estate's stables, and sought out her horse, Garnet. He had been one of two horses that pulled the carriage; the staff stabled him along with the guard's horses that had made the journey from Arendelle.

As a child, she'd loved to ride, but when the gates closed the opportunity to do so was lost to her. She'd continued to take riding lessons afterward, but her father had confined them to the castle courtyard, taking place in the early morning hours. Nothing could compare to the rides she used to take through open countryside.

The stables were impressive, and it didn't take long to locate the silver and black fjord pony. Elsa relaxed instantly, reaching over the stall and scratching between the horse's eyes. She wished she'd had the foresight to bring some treats with her. She grinned as the horse nickered and bumped his head against her hand.

She chewed her lip, fingers twisted loosely in Garnet's mane. A few hours remained before she was suppose to meet Anna at the festival. She had planned on getting some work done, but knew she was far too distracted to be productive.

She looked down at her clothes; she wore a white shirt and light blue knee-length tunic, white tights, and black calf-high boots. She didn't mind the long, more formal dresses she wore back home, but preferred the lighter tunics and leggings which were far less restrictive. However, such wear was not proper for a lady of her pedigree, or so she had been repeatedly told by her tutors and governess from the moment she was old enough to understand. She had hated the idea, and the word pedigree; she thought it made her sound more like a prize winning mare than a human. Though, depending on who you asked . . .

The only time she'd gotten away with dressing more comfortably was during her family's yearly trip to the Sommerhus. But those had stopped after the accident, one more casualty to her magic.

When packing for this trip she had used the excuse that the lighter weight tunics and leggings fit into smaller suitcase and meant there would be less luggage for the brief trip. Gerda had given her a disapproving look but refrained from commenting as the young queen would be far from the judgmental eyes of court. Elsa couldn't help but sometimes feel frustrated at the lack of control she had over her own life; even Anna was permitted to choose her own outfit each day.

But today, in this moment, there was no one around to lecture her on what was and was not proper for Arendelle's queen and after a moment of debate Elsa decided she needed to clear her head and a quick ride through Valle's countryside would be perfect.

She looked about, but didn't see the stable-master, or even a stable hand. It was no matter; just because she was Queen didn't mean she couldn't saddle her own horse. Elsa gathered what she needed from the supply of her guard's equipment; her personal gear remained in Arendelle, as horseback riding hadn't been in the plans.

With a bit of free time and a beautiful cloudless day, she had to admit that Anna was right: the kingdom wouldn't come crashing down around them just because Elsa took a few hours to herself.

As she affixed the bridle and saddle to Garnet, her mind drifted to the morning's meeting, and the reason it was even necessary. Her chest tightened and her breath hitched. She continued to feel shame and guilt for the way she had panicked and buried Arendelle under twenty feet of snow, not to mention freezing the fjord as far as the eye could see. She felt guilty for what she had done, but also terrified that she could do it.

Before her coronation, any magical outbursts had been contained to her quarters. Her powers had grown as she did, but she had never really experimented with how strong they were, had never attempted to test her limits. When she declared her parents lost at sea and made the decision to stop looking for them, she had lost control and turned her room into a frozen wasteland. It had been so bad that Kai and Gerda moved her to a guest room to recover and allow the room to thaw. It had taken almost a full week, but even in such a burst of grief and despair, not a single snowflake had made it outside her room.

It wasn't until she stood in her own castle's dungeon, hands shackled and chained to the floor, that she realized the extent of what she'd done. The sight of a frozen Arendelle had terrified her, which in turn made things worse, causing the storm to rage harder. The knowledge of what she had left behind when she fled Arendelle, the sheer power of it, shook her. Locking down Arendelle, building her ice palace, creating life. The possibilities of what she could do was as terrifying as it was intoxicating.

Elsa froze in place, the thought taking her by surprise. She frowned as she pulled on the strap securing the saddle and led Garnet out of the stall. She wasn't sure what to do with that thought, but didn't have to decide as a blunt force slammed into her, knocking her to the ground. Unhappy with the sudden jerk on his reins, Garnet snorted and threw his head back, stomping his feet. Elsa reacted quickly, covering her face with her arms as she rolled out of the way of stomping hooves. She hit the stable wall and found herself trapped, in very real danger of being trampled.

"Whoa," said a voice, attempting to soothe the panicking beast. "Whoa." The horse was tugged away. "I am so sorry. I didn't know anyone was in here."

Elsa rolled onto her back and glared up at the owner of the voice; a young man with dark hair, dressed far too nicely to belong to the staff. He tied Garnet's reins to a bar and offered his hand. "Here, let me help you up."

Elsa pulled away, tucking her hands close to her chest. She had thankfully held back any startled explosion of ice, but could feel the magic gathering and pressing against her palms. She didn't want to risk freezing the man, even if he did almost get her trampled. She shifted, pulling herself to her feet without touching him. She turned away and took a deep breath, working to calm the ice burning uncomfortably along her fingertips.

When she was sure she had it under control, she brushed the dirt from her clothes; then pointedly ignored him as she moved to Garnet, soothing the horse with a soft word and a gentle pet down his long nose.

The man dragged a hand through his short hair, looking both uncomfortable and apologetic. "Are you okay?"

Satisfied she had calmed her horse, Elsa turned to the man. "I think I'll live, perhaps with a bruise or two."

"Sorry about that." He grinned sheepishly. "It seems to be the theme for the day."

She raised her eyebrows. "You mean I'm not the first person you tried to run over?"

"Unfortunately, no. I accidentally ran into Princess Anna early this morning . . . literally. I hadn't even known she was here."

Elsa couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped. "Knowing her, I'm sure it was entirely her fault."

The man returned the laugh. "As she is the princess, I feel that I should neither confirm nor deny that insinuation."

"Probably for the best."

He rubbed the back of his neck, then his eyes widened. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm giving a horrible first impression . . . aside from the near trampling. I'm Alarik, the eldest son of Baron Oskar."

Elsa tilted her head. "I thought the Baron only had one son, Danel?"

He chuckled, "Yeah, I can understand the confusion. You aren't the first one to think so. I'm hardly around, much to my father's displeasure. I'm usually on duty with the royal Navy."

"You're a soldier?" Elsa asked, a blush creeping across her cheeks. She really should have known all the Baron's children by name, especially if one of them served in the military.

Alarik nodded. "My father sent a letter asking me to return home because we were hosting special guests."

Elsa wrinkled her nose. "Did the letter not say who?"

Alarik rubbed the back of his neck, "I'm sure it did but the letter missing half a page, and when the postmaster muttered something about a reindeer and talking snowman, I thought it best not to ask."

Elsa felt a blush crawl across her cheeks and pressed her fingertips against her forehead. She would have to remember to talk to Olaf about his adventures in town and not disturbing the people who were working. Again.

"I meant to arrive yesterday," Alarik continued, "but as a soldier it's difficult to get leave at a specific time, especially with recent events."

"Recent events?" Elsa's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Alarik folded his arms over his chest. "Well, because of what happened at the Queen's coronation. The Admiral increased all sea patrols south of the city."

"Did he?" Elsa wasn't aware of that. It was the Admiral's job to run the Navy as he deemed necessary, but she didn't like being left out of the loop on major changes to operations, especially when they resulted from her actions. She would have to speak with him when she returned.

She paused; one hand nestled on Garnet's nose, something Alarik said struck her as odd. "Did you say the queen's coronation?"

"I did, why?"

Elsa pressed her lips into a tight line, realizing that Alarik had no idea who she was. She was used to being recognized, but found it was quite refreshing for once to not be. She shook her head with a small smile. "No reason."

He returned the smile, then turned his attention to the horse. "Going out for a ride I assume?"

"I am." She ran a hand down Garnet's neck before untying the reins and leading him out into the courtyard. "For the first time in months, I find myself with a few free hours and plan on taking advantage while I can."

"Well, my father is busy at the moment and it seems I have a few hours myself. Perhaps I can accompany you and make up for almost getting you trampled?"

Elsa had slipped her foot into the stirrup and grabbed a hold of the saddle. She lifted herself up and swung her leg over the horse, then settled herself into the saddle. "If you think you can keep up." She gripped the reins and grinned.

* * *

Anna paused just inside the drawing room and turned to the window, glaring as rain fell in heavy sheets. The day had started so well, clear skies and a gentle, warm breeze despite the late autumn season; she'd been enjoying the festival with her childhood friend, Danel, excited to see and experience everything the festival offered; the only celebration she could remember attending was the one Elsa allowed her to plan two months earlier. She'd had a blast of it, but it had been far more work to plan and prepare than she had expected. It was nice to enjoy the festival without worrying about things going wrong behind the scenes.

The best part of the day, however, was yet to come. She was excited that she had convinced her sister to take the afternoon off and join her. The only thing that could make the day better was Kristoff being there with them.

Her excitement was short-lived though, as the sky opened up an hour before lunch, letting loose an unexpected downpour. By the time she and Danel made it back to the manor, it soaked them through. The servants had intercepted them in the foyer and immediately shuffled her off to a hot bath and a change of clothing. Suitably dry and warm, she walked about the large house in search of her sister. Elsa wasn't in any of the expected places—her own room, the extensive study, or the drawing room. Anna put her hands on her hips and huffed; the manor was a quarter the size of the castle, and there were only so many places a queen could hide. A small nagging voice in the back of her head worried that something could be wrong. It wasn't like her sister to vanish without someone knowing where she went.

She supposed she could seek out Lord Oskar, or even enlist Danel's help, once he finished making himself "pretty," which, as usual, was taking an impressively long time.

She walked into the grand foyer and spotted the manor's butler. "Oh!" she called, waving her arm.

He turned to her, bowing his head. "Yes, Your Highness, may I help you?"

"Have you seen my sister? I mean the queen," Anna added. She was never really clear on when she was expected to use Elsa's title; it always seemed strange to her.

The butler pondered the question. "I last saw Her Majesty was some hours ago, heading toward the gardens. However, I think it's fair to say she is not in the garden at this time."

Anna looked toward the large windows at the front of the foyer where the sky outside was dark with fat, grey clouds, the nagging worry starting to grow steadily. "Maybe Lord Oskar knows. Do you know where I could find him?"

The butler gestured to the nearest doorway. "Down the hallway, to the left of the conservatory. If you like, I—"

Anna didn't wait to hear the rest of his offer, instead bounding down the hallway. She slid the last few feet as she reached the door and knocked.

"Come in," came the muffled invitation.

She poked her head into the room and found the Baron seated behind a desk, writing something in a large ledger. He looked up as she entered. "Your Highness," he greeted her warmly, setting his pen aside and standing. He frowned. "Is something wrong?"

"Oh, no. Well, not really. Maybe." Anna stepped further into the room and nervously folded her hands behind her, rocking on the balls of her feet. "I can't find Elsa, and I was hoping you'd know where she might be."

Oskar raised an eyebrow. "I haven't seen Her Majesty since we concluded our meeting this morning. Perhaps—"

He never finished, as the front door in the foyer shut with a bang that echoed along the hall, followed by two sets of loud laughter. Anna cocked her head, realizing half of the laughter was coming from her sister. A smile creeped across her face at hearing it, though it's presence surprised her. Not that Elsa didn't laugh, but it wasn't as common as she'd like, and was normally quiet and refined, not the boisterous sound Anna was hearing now.

She followed the sound of the laughter down the hall, hurrying around the corner and coming to an abrupt stop when she saw her sister. Liberal amounts of mud covered her from head to toe, dripping puddles on the polished hardwood floor. Standing next to her was the Baron's oldest son Alarik, who seemed to have fared marginally better.

"Where have you been?" Anna demanded, her worry over her sister overshadowing her relief that she was okay. "Is that a stick in your hair?" With a frown, she stepped forward and tugged a twig free from Elsa's sopping hair. Eyes wide, she held the twig aloft for her sister to see.

"Huh." With an uncharacteristic grin, Elsa ran her hand over her hair and pulled out another stick.

Suddenly, Anna understood the exasperation she caused Elsa every time she did something irresponsible. "What were you doing?" she asked, throwing her arms wide. "And, where were you? It's been raining for hours!"

"Your Highness." Alarik stepped forward, bowing his head. "It's entirely my fault. I got the trails mixed up, and we ended up a bit lost—"

"A bit?" Elsa interrupted, folding her arms over her chest with a squelch of wet fabric.

Alarik ignored her. "Then the path back got washed out." he told Anna.

Elsa nodded. "A large branch fell from a tree and startled Garnet."

"She was thrown from her horse." Alarik added. Before Anna could express concern, he turned to her sister with a wide grin. "You're not having much luck today."

Elsa turned a playful glare on him. "And whose fault is that?"

"I said I was sorry. Like sixty times, in fact."

"It was twice."

"It was definitely more." Alarik turned back to Anna, who was just struggling to keep up. "She might have a concussion. I wouldn't listen to her."

Head spinning, Anna held up her hands, finally silencing them both. "A concussion?"

"I'm fine," Elsa insisted.

"Luckily her head was harder than the rock she tried to break with it, but regardless of what she says, we should have our physician look at it." Alarik pointed to the back of Elsa's wet head. "She's got a nice gash here."

Elsa swatted him away, and he chuckled as he stepped back, hands help up in surrender.

"I'm fine," Elsa repeated firmly. "It's barely a scratch."

Standing just behind her and safely out of her line of sight, Alarik shook his head at Anna, using his fingers to indicate a sizeable wound.

Anna gaped, at a complete loss of what to even say at this turn of events. She put a hand to her forehead, happy to see her sister looking more relaxed than she'd seen Elsa in a very long time, but was also very concerned that she might be seriously injured. At the very least, she was soaked and covered in mud, and the cold might not bother her, but that didn't mean she couldn't get sick. "We should have their physician look you over," she finally agreed. "Just to be sure."

Elsa rolled her eyes. "For what I really hope is the last time," she said, in what Anna liked to call her 'queen voice.' "I am fine. Bruised, wet, and in desperate need of a bath. But fine."

Alarik stepped forward, his face somber. "In all seriousness, Your Highness, I apologize for keeping your attendant out in the rain."

Anna's eyes went wide as she realized he was speaking to her. "My what?"

"Her what?"

From a few steps behind her, the Baron's voice boomed like a clap of thunder. With a look of surprise and disbelief on his face, he closed the distance between him and his son so they stood only an arms-length apart.

Elsa stepped forward, somehow looking both amused and contrite. "It's not his fault." She paused a moment, considering. "Not entirely, anyway. He made an assumption, and I didn't correct it."

Alarik looked between Anna and Elsa, then to his father's angry, red face. "Why do I feel that I'm missing something very important?"

Anna stood straighter, gesturing to her sister. "Alarik, may I introduce my sister, Elsa, Queen of Arendelle."


	5. The Calm

"Alarik, may I introduce my sister, Elsa, Queen of Arendelle."

Alarik's head whipped around, his eyes widening. "Queen?"

"Of Arendelle." Anna supplied helpfully.

Elsa resisted the urge to wrap her arms around herself, aware that with her muddy hands and rain-soaked attire, she didn't exactly resemble what a queen should look like. She attempted to wipe off her hands on her equally muddied tunic.

"I, uh . . ." Alarik opened his mouth, then closed it without speaking, a blush raising from his neck to his ears.

Elsa grinned, but Alarik's father was far from amused. Lord Oskar bowed deeply. "If you would excuse me, Your Majesty."

"Of course," she said, folding her filthy hands in front of her like she wasn't covered from head to toe.

The Baron turned his attention to his eldest son, face glowing red. "My study, now."

Alarik dipped his chin with a sober "Your Majesty" but winked as he walked past.

Elsa watched the two depart, then took a deep breath to steel herself for the onslaught of questions and demands she knew were about to erupt from her sister. In her periphery, she could see Anna was watching her way with a narrowed, calculating gaze, like she was trying to decipher a particularly trying puzzle. Elsa drew together all the regal grace a person covered in mud could and lifted her chin. "I need a bath," she announced.

She turned toward the hall leading to their quarters, knowing her sister would follow. The two walked in silence all the way to Elsa's room. At first, Anna's restraint impressed her, knowing full-well the girl had to be bursting with questions, but as the silence dragged on it grated her nerves.

As they drew near her room, a servant opened the door for her with a low curtsy. "Your Majesty, there is a hot bath waiting for you as per Lord Oskar's request. Do you require assistance or need anything I can get for you?"

Elsa raised her eyebrows, that was quick. She held a muddy hand up and shook her head. "No, thank you." The girl curtsied once more and Elsa stepped into the room. She moved behind a privacy screen where the steaming bathtub was waiting.

Finally, she could stand the silence no longer. "Anna," she said, poking her head from behind the screen. Her sister had settled onto the bed and was staring down at her hands. "Just say it already, before you bite through your tongue."

Elsa unbuttoned her tunic. The infuriating silence stretched on a moment longer, before Anna exploded, a rush of unintelligible words that Elsa could not quite follow. "Anna, slow down." she called through the screen as she slipped into the bathtub. "Try one word at a time." She let out a sigh as the hot water went to work on her sore muscles.

Anna drew an audible breath. "When I said you should relax and have fun, I didn't mean riding through a rainstorm and attempting to give yourself brain damage. What were you thinking?"

"Well, not that I'd go out riding during a storm and crack my head on a rock."

"Crack your head on a rock?"

Elsa winced, realizing the poor choice in words; she could hear her sister's panic ratcheting up a notch. "Anna—"

"You do realize this is the second time in three months you've hit your head. That can't be good for you."

"Anna—"

"You remember what happened last time, right? Or did you hit your head so hard it knocked out the memories?"

She knew her sister couldn't see it, but that didn't stop Elsa from throwing a dirty look through the privacy screen. How could she not remember, she came terrifyingly close to being killed by her own chandelier thanks to Hans. She wasn't sure she'd call it luck, that she got away with only being knocked unconscious as she spent the next few weeks sick. The entire affair only made worse by her admittedly stubborn refusal to stop working until she literally collapsed. Anna had thrown a fit and made threats to give Elsa something that would make her sleep for a week if she didn't follow the physician's advice and allow herself time to heal.

"Anna," Elsa attempted a third time. Her sister thankfully stayed quiet long enough to get a word in. "I promise, it's just a bump."

"You were thrown from you horse and hit your head on a rock," Anna countered.

Elsa tilted her head. She couldn't argue that point, and now that the excitement of the day had worn off her head was bothering her, nowhere near as bad as last time, but enough to notice. "If it gives you peace of mind, I will let their doctor look me over."

"It will."

"Very well then." Elsa slid beneath the surface of the water long enough to wet her hair and wash the mud and grime from the long platinum strands.

After a long stretch of much more comfortable silence, Anna cleared her throat. "So. . ."

Elsa rolled her eyes, wincing slightly as the motion caused an unexpected stab of pain, then pulled herself from the tub. "Anna." she said in a warning tone as she wrung the water from her hair and grabbed a robe draped over the screen.

Anna huffed. "Tell me about what happened!" She bounced excitedly on the bed as Elsa emerged from behind the screen. "How did you end up going riding with Alarik?"

Elsa tied the sash of the robe around her waist. "It's not that exciting, really. I had some unexpected free time after the meeting with Baron Oskar, before I was planning to meet you at the festival," she was quick to add. "It's been a while, so following your advice, I thought I'd take Garnet out for a ride. I ran into Alarik—" Literally "—and he offered to show me the trails."

Anna smiled, her gaze far-off and dreamy. "Sounds like the start of something romantic."

Elsa snorted softly. "Hardly. He was being polite to who he thought was your lady's maid," she said with a mischievous smile.

"Oh, I'm sure he's getting an earful about that right now. Not that he regrets it, of course. It was clear he likes you. You guys should, you know . . ." Anna shrugged, her expression suggestive.

Elsa shook her head as she sat down next to her sister. "You're incorrigible. I don't know Alarik and even if I did, and liked him like that, nothing could ever come of it."

"What?" Anna asked, brows furrowed. "Why not?"

"He is the son of one of my Barons."

"Which would make him a noble," Anna supplied helpfully, as though it was that easy.

"Which would make him one of my nobles," Elsa returned.

"Right. . ." Anna shook her head. "I still feel like I'm missing the problem here."

Elsa sighed patiently. A part of her was glad that her sister was still innocent enough to not understand the problem her theoretical pairing presented. "There would be no political gain to Alarik and I as a pair."

"So?" Anna frowned. "There's no political gain to Kristoff and I, and everyone is okay with that."

Elsa laughed. "No, everyone is not okay with it. The council hounds me every meeting about you, begging me to allow you to entertain courtship offers from far-off princes and nobles in search of some political gain or alliance."

Anna wrinkled her nose. "What? I haven't had offers for courtships."

Elsa shook her head. "You have. Many of them, in fact. I've turned them all away, which is why I asked you the other day about making your courtship with Kristoff more official. If, in fact, that is the direction you both are looking to move. The council will have a fit, but there's not much they can do."

"Oh." Anna's eyes were wide. "I thought you were kidding about that."

"Afraid not." Elsa shook her head. "And if you think they are kicking up dirt about that, you can imagine what their response would be if I tried courting with one of my own nobles."

"I thought you said they didn't want you to. . ." her sister waved a hand.

"They are understandably uneasy about any children I might have. Creating an alliance through marriage is an entirely different situation. As Queen, it would be preferable that I marry to solidify an alliance with another kingdom."

"But Mama and Papa married for love."

Elsa took a deep breath, feeling the pang for her lost parents, the one that never really went away. "Papa was a king with a strong rule and the council, the people never had reason to doubt his ability to do his job."

Anna's brow crinkled in the middle. "Elsa, no one doubts your ability to be queen, you're doing a great job."

Elsa smiled sadly at her sister. "No, Anna. I'm Arendelle's first female ruler, a queen with magic who stayed hidden for thirteen years and then nearly destroyed those I had sworn to protect. My rule is far from secure right now."

"Elsa, that's not true." Anna reached out and covered Elsa's hand with her own. "The people see what you've gone through. They've seen the work you're putting in to make things right. They—"

A knock on the door interrupted her sister and Anna glared at the door, then pushed up off the bed, pulling open the door. "It's the physician." she said, looking over her shoulder.

Elsa nodded, pulling her robe more tightly around herself. "You can let him in."

Anna pressed her lips into a thin line, then sighed. "I'll go check on Alarik. Make sure his father didn't just out right murder him."

* * *

Anna walked down the wide staircase, replaying the conversation with her sister. She sighed. Elsa was too hard on herself, trying to make up for past mistakes by setting impossible standards, then condemning herself when she failed to live up to them. She wished there was something she could do to show Elsa that she was a great Queen and loved by her people, but her sister would refuse to believe it, always choosing the story where she's the one at fault.

Anna paused near the bottom of the stairs as Alarik appeared on his way out from his father's study. "You survived," she teased with a lightness she didn't feel, stepping off the last step.

"Your Highness," he greeted with a dip of his chin. "You know, I always thought that you were the biggest troublemaker I ever met, but I am fairly certain that everything you've ever done-combined- would not have earned me the ear-lashing I just received."

Anna chuckled. "Well, you did refer to the queen as my lady's maid."

"Only after she let me believe that's who she was."

"And, if I remember correctly, you called her hardheaded."

Alarik snorted. "Okay, I'll give you that one. How is Her Majesty?"

Anna's gaze drifted upward, where she'd left her sister. "The doctor is with her now. Hopefully, he shouldn't take long." Even as she said it, she felt a nagging bit of worry worm its way into her mind. She glanced back the way she came, as if she could make the doctor manifest through will alone.

Alarik nodded and rolled his lips against his teeth. "And you?" he inquired.

Anna turned back to him with wide eyes. "What about me?"

"Well, I can't imagine the last few months have been a simple transition, even if it's everything you've wanted."

Anna blinked; then a smile spread across her face, color touching her cheeks as she remembered a conversation that she and Alarik had many years ago. Being six years her elder, it was rare that they played together as children, and even rarer for them to talk once she was older. Alarik had joined the military as soon as he was old enough, much to his father's well-voiced displeasure.

But the last year she'd visited the manor her normal partner-in-crime, Danel, was laid up in bed with a sprained ankle that she would swear to her last breath had nothing to do with her or the magical white rabbit they had spotted in the woods. The Baron's daughters had been away, leaving Anna with only herself, once more, for entertainment.

A twenty-year-old Alarik, home for the week, briefly spared her. She was sure the last thing he wanted to do was spend his days off with a fourteen-year-old girl, but instead of brushing her off, he took her out to ride, then into the village for hot chocolate and other sweets. She remembered how smitten she'd been with the older man at the time and could only pray that he either didn't notice or had completely forgotten.

On her last night at the manor, Anna had been feeling down and Alarik took her into the village to the bakery. It had taken some chocolate bribery, but he convinced her to share what was wrong. She confided in him that she didn't want to go back to Arendelle, to an empty castle and a sister she thought hated her. Over the course of the conversation she told him what she wanted more than anything in the world was for the castle gates to open again, to have her sister back.

Anna folded her hands behind her back and rolled forward on the balls of her feet. "It's been quite the challenge," she said, unsure how to properly summarize the whirlwind that had been the last three months. "It wasn't what I expected." A wide grin crossed her face. "But I've honestly never been happier."

"That's good to hear. You deserve to be happy."

Anna ducked her head. She didn't know how to respond to that, but didn't need to as the doctor appeared, walking down the stairs. Her good mood evaporated quickly at the reminder of her sister's possible injury.

The man bowed his head as he reached them. "Your Highness. My Lord."

"How is she?" Anna asked, cutting straight to the point. The events surrounding the last time Elsa took a hit to the head and the stressful weeks that followed were still fresh in her mind, and she wasn't interested in beating around the bush.

"Her Majesty should be fine-"

"Should be?" Anna didn't like that phrasing at all.

The doctor paused, reconsidering his words before continuing. "The Queen has a minor cut on the back of her head where she struck it but isn't showing signs of a concussion. However, as she may be at higher risk of getting sick due to the thirteen years of isolation from people, I would recommend she spend the next day in bed, just as a precaution."

Anna folded her arms across her chest. "I'm sure that went over well."

The doctor raised an eyebrow in agreement but didn't comment. "If anything changes, please feel free to send for me at any time."

"We will," she said. "Thank you."

After the doctor left, Alarik turned to Anna. "Your sister isn't one for bedrest, I take it."

"I can barely convince her she needs the normal amount of sleep. Tell her she needs to stay in bed the entire day? Especially when it's going to push her schedule back a day," Anna snorted. "The last time I managed that, it was only after she collapsed during a meeting, and even that took more than one threat."

Alarik's mouth quirked. "Isn't threatening the queen treason?"

"That's what she said, but I was willing to take my chances."

"Sounds like you have your work cut out for you."

Anna blew out a frustrated breath. "Elsa's job requires she take care of an entire kingdom. The least I can do is make sure someone is taking care of her."

He smiled. "She's lucky to have you."

"If you can remind her of that when I tell her she has to delay her schedule," Anna said, returning the smile.


	6. The Deep Breath

Elsa woke gradually, groggily. A sliver of early morning light was shining right at her closed eyelids, with the intensity of a noontime sun in a cloudless sky. She groaned and rolled her head atop the pillow and realized quickly that was a bad idea. Her head felt heavy and full, like someone had stuffed it full of cotton. Her stomach rolled uncomfortably; she knew this feeling; it wasn't one she experienced often growing up, but enough times that she could recognize it. She had gotten sick.

She pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead, hoping the pressure would ease the relentless fuzzy feeling and clear her head. This couldn't happen right now; she needed to pull herself together before Anna burst into the room. The incident three months ago was still far too fresh in her sister's mind, and there was no way Anna would take any chances, even if this wasn't the same thing. She would want to delay their trip back to Arendelle, and Elsa couldn't allow that to happen.

Her first time outside of Arendelle and she catches something; there had to be a joke in there somewhere, she just couldn't think clearly enough to figure it out. One thing was for sure—her Royal Physician Malthe was not going to be happy with her as he warned her that her isolation may make her more suspectible to illness. Elsa had no doubts her sister would be sure to make sure the man knew about it. She dropped her hand over her eyes and took a few shallow breaths to settle her stomach while trying to not think about the bumpy carriage ride that was going to take place over the next two days.

A soft knock on the door—Anna's knock—jolted her out of her thoughts. The door creaked open. "Elsa?" Her voice was soft and low in a way that immediately told Elsa one thing, Anna already knew.

_Fiddlesticks._ "Come in." Elsa dropped her hand from her face and pushed herself upright in bed. She worked to keep her expression neutral, fighting not to squint as the room made a slow tilted. It was clear from the wince that crossed Anna's face that she was unsuccessful. That didn't mean all was lost; Elsa didn't have to convince Anna that she was okay, just okay enough to sit in a carriage for the two-day journey home.

Anna slid into the room and shut the door softly behind her. She crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the bed, tucking her dress under her legs. She looked like she'd been up for a few hours already.

Elsa frowned, glancing at the window, the closed curtains. "What time is it?"

Anna pressed her lips into a thin line, a quick flash of concern crossing her face. "Almost noon."

"Noon?" Her eyes widened as she looked back to the large window, trying to gauge the brightness exploding from the edges of the curtains, needing to confirm her sister's statement.

"I stopped by earlier to see if you wanted to come down for breakfast, but you were still asleep. With what the doctor said last night, I figured it might be better to just let you sleep."

Elsa sighed internally, knowing her argument had died before she even had a chance to launch it. She turned back to her sister.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," she said instead, almost automatically.

Anna raised her eyebrows. Obviously, her sister didn't believe her, and Elsa couldn't blame her. She did just sleep until nearly noon, and the last time that happened, things had gone downhill quickly.

Elsa took a moment to debate her answer, not wanting to lie to her sister and knowing that if she did, considering what she put her sister through last time, there was a chance Arendelle would be crowning a new Queen. On the other hand, she didn't want to give her sister cause to worry when there was really no need, nor did she want to delay their trip back to Arendelle. There was too much to do, and if she'd truly slept until noon, they were already behind schedule. She decided a middle ground would be best. Elsa took a breath and tried again. "A bit stuffy," she said. For the sake of honesty, she added, "maybe a little nausea."

Anna chewed her bottom lip. "I think we should wait a few days before heading back to Arendelle. Maybe a week."

She knew that was coming. Elsa reached out, covering Anna's warm hand with hers. "Anna, I'm fine. Really."

"I feel like I've heard that before," her sister clipped.

_Low blow._ Perhaps Anna was better at holding a grudge than Elsa had originally thought. _Good to know._ She made a mental note and changed tactics. "Anna, you know we can't stay here for an entire week. There are things back home that need my attention. Meetings and appointments I already have scheduled."

"All of which can easily be rescheduled as the Queen wishes."

"I do not want to make a habit of delaying such things."

" _I_ don't want to make a habit of my sister collapsing from exhaustion." Anna stared pointedly.

Elsa sighed. As much as she wanted to hold her position, she could hardly focus on her sister's face mere feet away from her own. "One day."

"Three days," Anna countered, folding her arms over her chest.

"One," Elsa repeated.

"Two."

She sighed again, knowing when she was beat. "Including today?"

"As long as you aren't still feeling nauseous tomorrow." Anna pointed a finger. "And no pretending to be okay."

Elsa slumped back against her pillows. It was the only way to get her sister off her back. "Fine."

* * *

Anna walked along the cobblestone streets of Valle, leisurely making her way through the market square. The town was bigger than Arendelle, but still retained that familial sense of community she loved. The people here were friendly and welcoming and it took her no time to find the town's postmaster so she could, at her sister's insistence, send a message to Arendelle that their return had been delayed.

After Anna had convinced her sister to stay put for a few days, Elsa told her they would need to send word immediately that they'd been delayed, to ensure the council didn't panic and mobilize the whole of the military when they don't return to Arendelle as scheduled. Anna offered to write and send the letter herself, wanting to keep her sister from doing anything that even hinted at being work-related. Between making sure Elsa didn't sneak in any work—a full-time job in itself—and catching up with the Baron and his family, she'd gotten distracted and forgot to write the letter, much less send it out, which prompted her rather early morning trip into town.

There was an entire staff of people in the Baron's home whom she could have sent the letter with, but she enjoyed the walk to town and figured she could use the opportunity to pick up something for her sister and maybe some gifts to bring back to Kristoff. It wasn't until after she'd left the manor and made her way to town that she remembered her sister's very specific request—well, more an order, really—that she had a guard with her when wondering around Valle. But it was still early morning and Elsa was asleep, and with just one more stop, Anna knew she would be back before her sister woke. What Elsa didn't know couldn't hurt her. Or Anna.

She paused on the street, taking a moment to recall the directions she'd received from a kindly old shoe cobbler who'd been sitting outside his shop. She chewed on her lower lip, almost certain the cobbler had said to take a left at the end of the street, and that the bakery would be the third shop on the right. Relatively confidant in the strength of her memory, Anna continued along the street. She took a sharp left at the corner, only to slow her pace as an oddly dressed man caught her attention. He was dressed warmly for the late fall weather, but his clothing didn't resemble that of the rest of the townsfolk. Instead, it looked like handstitched leather with patches of dark fur peeking out from the lining. Anna idly wondered if he was from one of the northern villages, as he appeared lost. It was obvious he was not a local to Valle.

He looked harmless enough, though, so Anna took pity on the man. "Excuse me," she called out, covering the short distance between them. "You look lost. Sort of. I mean, I don't know if you are, you just seem . . ." She shrugged and smiled, forcing herself to stop talking long enough to allow him to answer.

The man took a step back, then returned the smile. "Lost?" He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. "A bit, I think. I was trying to find a general store, but I think I took a wrong turn. Or six."

Anna wrinkled her nose, trying to recall the store's location. "I think it's one street over and then to the . . . left?" She chewed her lower lip, then shook her head. "Come on, I'll help you find it." She took a few steps before turning to make sure he was following her. "I'm Anna, by the way."

"Erik," he said, falling in step next to her. "Thank you for your help."

"My pleasure. I'm guessing this is your first time in Valle? What brings you here?"

Erik dipped his chin. "My brother and I are just passing through. We're on our way south, to Arendelle."

Anna bounced excitedly. "Really? That's where I live. We're heading back down in a few days. Maybe we can travel together."

He raised an eyebrow. "We?"

Anna nodded. "My sister and I. She had some business with the Baron," she explained, with a dismissive wave of her hand. She knew Elsa's business here in Valle was important; she just didn't want to discuss it and risk getting bogged down in the more boring details.

Erik rolled his lips against his teeth and dropped his gaze to the ground. "Baron," he mumbled, as though trying to recall some piece of dusty, unused information. He turned his attention back to Anna. "Your sister must be important to have business with him."

"Well, she is the Queen," Anna said nonchalantly, with a smile.

Erik halted his steps. "Your sister is the Queen? Like, the actual Queen of Arendelle?"

Anna chuckled. She wasn't used to meeting people who didn't already know who she and Elsa were and suddenly understood how Elsa must have felt when Alarik mistook her for someone more . . . normal. "She is the _actual_ Queen of Arendelle," she confirmed.

"And you're her sister?"

Anna nodded.

Erik didn't speak for a long moment, his brow screwed up in concentration. "My brother and I are going to Arendelle in the hopes of speaking to the Queen. But, I don't suppose there is a chance you could get her to talk to us, while we are here . . ." He trailed off, allowing Anna to work out his request on her own.

Anna tilted her head, considering. This wasn't the first time someone had asked her something like this. Even though the castle gates were open, people weren't free to walk in and share their business at their own discretion. They held open court twice a week for that, and anyone wishing to discuss a private matter had to make an appointment to see Elsa, which was more difficult than it sounded. Anna wasn't sure what was all involved, but knew that someone could end up waiting weeks for a meeting. None of it was Elsa's choice, however; Anna knew her sister was always open to meeting with anyone who wished to speak to her. She was more comfortable in the intimate, one-on-one settings, but to arrange one meant working your way through layers of approval before finally making it to Elsa. Because of this, people had approached Anna more than once in the hopes to bypass the wait time and secure a meeting with the Queen.

She knew her sister wouldn't have any issue meeting with Erik, but she also wanted Elsa to relax and rest, and not doing anything work related. But Anna also didn't want Erik and his brother to travel all the way down to Arendelle when they were already here and could help. Anna opted for a half-truth.

"She's busy all day today," she told Erik. Which Elsa was busy doing nothing and relaxing. "But perhaps I can help you? Or at least take your message to her."

Erik's eyes lit up. He straightened and surveyed the immediate area. "Is there perhaps somewhere we could talk? It's something of a long story."

Anna nodded and gestured back the way they came. "I was actually just on my way to the bakery. They have some pastries that are to die for."

* * *

Elsa worried her bottom lip as she stared down at the letter in front of her. She'd read through it a half-dozen times already, but was having issues concentrating. Nothing serious enough to be worrisome, but certainly irritating. She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, sinking back in the large plush chair. She lifted her gaze from the small print on the parchment and instead allowed it to drift around the drawing room. It was a cozy room, containing two couches and some large chairs, and bookcases lined one wall. Large bay windows offered a scenic view of the gardens and northern mountains in the distance, while allowing the late morning sunlight to warm the room to a comfortable temperature.

When she woke this morning, Elsa had happily discovered that she felt better than she had the day before. Sleep was an excellent healer. Some congestion still lingered, and she accidentally froze her cup of coffee—which took more than a few attempts to thaw—but it was manageable. She made her way downstairs for a late breakfast, joining Lord Oskar and Alarik in a much less formal affair than their previous dinner. His wife, Danel, and the two daughters left early that morning to visit a cousin in a nearby town before the harsh winter season made the mountain roads impassable. After Anna had requested the extend their stay in Valle, the Baron had mentioned altering their travel plans, but Elsa quickly derailed that idea. She felt guilty already, imposing on them longer than they had meant to, and did not want to cause them any further inconvenience.

She'd been surprised to find her sister had headed into town early in the morning, less surprised to learn Anna had not taken a guard or escort of any type. The subject had been a matter of disagreement between the two of them over the past three months. Elsa was hesitant to pull rank, especially when they were home in Arendelle, but with more people sailing into the harbor each day from all over, she didn't want her sister wandering around town without protection.

Valle was a whole different matter. While Elsa trusted the Baron and his family, and her sister's opinion of the town and townspeople, she'd never been to Valle herself, and worried about something happening to Anna while she was out alone. The girl could be far too friendly for her own good, and it was bound to get her into trouble one day.

Elsa set the letter aside into a box containing the last of the missives she had wanted to write replies for. There were only a few left to go through and despite the fogginess plaguing her, she was sure she could finish before Anna returned. Her sister would be annoyed that she was working, even on such minor things, but what Anna didn't know couldn't hurt her. Or Elsa.

She leaned back and allowed her eyes to close for a moment, enjoying the warm sun on her face, hoping it would help clear her head. She wasn't sure how long she sat like that but drifted off, only startling awake sometime later by the sound of the door opening.

Anna peeked her head into the room. "Elsa?"

"In here." She sat up straight and rubbed her eyes.

Anna crossed the room and perched on the end of the couch near her. Her gaze fell on the box of letters and she wrinkled her nose. "You're not supposed to be working."

Elsa raised an eyebrow. "You are not supposed to be going into town without an escort."

Anna opened her mouth but snapped it shut immediately, conceding the point. At least for now. "How are feeling?"

Elsa thought about her answer, then hitched a shoulder. "A lot better than I was yesterday and ready to return home."

Anna nodded, then shifted on the couch, leaning forward while tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear. "Can I ask you a question?"

Elsa narrowed her gaze, knowing that if her sister was hesitant to ask something—her sister who wasn't scared of anything, least of all speaking her mind—then she was probably not going to like what Anna was about to ask. She also knew she couldn't stop the girl even if she wanted to, so she nodded.

Anna fidgeted again, looking more unsure than Elsa had ever seen her, which only served to ramp up her anxiety.

"Anna," she snapped, harsher than she intended, but she could no longer stand her sister's fidgeting.

"Uh, right." Anna cleared her throat. "Okay, you know of the northern tribe called the Sirma?"

Elsa recoiled. Out of all the things she could have predicted Anna to bring up, the Sirma was not one of them. Anna didn't even have any reason herself to know of the tribe by name; they weren't in any records in Arendelle as far as she knew. Elsa had only recently learned the name of the tribe that had caused Arendelle problems for years, when she received the letter from them.

It occurred to Elsa how far north they were here in Valle and easily deduced the only way her sister could have heard of that tribe. Without hearing any more of what Anna wanted to talk to her about, the implications had already posed far more complications than she was prepared for. "Someone approached in town?" Even Elsa had to admit that the question came out more like an accusation, but she had to know. "Anna," she persisted, and there was no questioning the command in her tone. "Who did you talk to?"

"A guy named Erik." Anna sat up straighter, her own tone taking a defensive edge. "He's the younger brother of the tribe's leader, Tyr, and he was perfectly pleasant."

_Erik._ He'd been the one who sent her the letter a few weeks ago. Elsa pushed out of her chair and paced to the other end of the room, pressing her fingertips against her forehead. Her sister had been alone and approached by the brother of the tribe's leader. "This is why you need to have an escort. What were you thinking?" She whirled on the younger girl, her head swimming lazily. "Anna, you could have been hurt, or worse."

"Erik wouldn't have hurt me."

Elsa huffed. "Because your past judgement of men has been so reliable."

"Hey!" Anna jumped to her feet, looking stung. "First of all, I was right about Kristoff."

"Fifty-fifty is not encouraging odds." Elsa knew she was being unfair, but anger was an easier emotion to give in to, rather than the fear that such a meeting could have easily gone very wrong, and by the time anyone knew, it would have been too late.

Anna shook her head and waved a hand in front of her. "That's not the point-"

"No," Elsa interrupted. "It's exactly the point. Anna, do you even know anything about these people?"

"I know they need our help."

"Did Erik tell you that their tribe raids our northern villages? And has continuously since our grandfather's reign?" Elsa shook her head. "We have an entire battalion stationed on the north border because of them."

Anna shifted her weight, folded her arms stubbornly over her chest. "He mentioned some rocky relations with us, but he also said he'd like to fix them."

"Sure, now that their people need something."

Anna frowned. "When did you become so . . . cynical?"

"It's called being realistic." Elsa sighed. She loved the part of her sister that had kept this childlike innocence when it came to people, but she also worried that it was going to get her sister hurt. Elsa couldn't always be there to protect her. "Anna, look, I sympathize with their plight, and I wish I could help. But I assure you, the response I already gave them was not made lightly. But it was final."

Her sister's expression darkened. "Just like that?"

"No, Anna, not just like that." Elsa threw her arms wide. "Do you really think so little of me that you believe I would turn my back on people in need without good reason?"

Anna pressed her lips together, looking like she regretted what she had said, but it was too late to take it back. "At least give me the chance to change your mind?"

Elsa's shoulders slumped. She made her decision already and would not change it, but gestured for her sister to go ahead with whatever argument she had. Elsa had already had this debate with herself. Her instinct had been to help the Sirma when Erik first reached out to her, but a meeting with the Admiral and her advisors had forced her to face a few unpleasant facts. While Arendelle possessed a significant military force, strong enough to defend the country and take the offensive if necessary, the kingdom was short on many supplies because of the sudden summer blizzard. Supplies that they used to mend destroyed ships and property, gave away to keep people warm.

If push came to shove, the Admiral had assured her the military could manage, but their dwindling supplies, while a serious concern, was not the greatest one raised in the meeting. The most sobering thought had come from Gregor Alfson _,_ who noted that the land to the north of their border was widely considered uncontested, owned by no ruling country other than the natives who lived there. If Elsa marched Arendelle's military into the area with no real provocation, surrounding countries may very well interpret the action as her intention to take the land by force to expand Arendelle's territory. Under normal circumstances, it wouldn't be such an issue. But Arendelle—and its Queen—were far from normal. The neighboring countries were already on edge about Elsa's magic, the effortless power that had allowed her to accidentally lock down Arendelle. Other kingdoms feared her doing to the same to them, and the only thing staying the hands of other countries and keeping them from launching preemptive attacks was the fact that Arendelle had always been a peaceful nation. They had never used their military for more than defending their kingdom, or those in alliances.

A march into uncontested territory—unprovoked, no less—could seriously damage those already shaky perceptions. Responding the call for help with a "no" had been one of the more difficult things Elsa had to do, but she knew it was the right thing for her kingdom. She had to put her people first.

Anna smiled faintly and nodded. "Okay, so, there's this tribe called the, uh, Vindarr. They live on an island to the north of the Sirma villages. They've been locked in this disagreement with each other for centuries, over some stuff going way back. Every few decades they go to war and it always ends in a stalemate.

"Well, about six months ago, their chief—Erik's father—was murdered. Shortly after that, the Vindarr attacked one of their villages. At first, it seemed like they were targeting the Sirma shamans and those training to be. I'm not sure why. But more recently they started capturing shamans and destroying entire villages, leaving nothing behind." Anna took a deep breath, and she dropped back to the couch. "Erik said their warrior band is very capable, and they've never had a problem meeting the Vindarr on the field and defending their people but . . . the attacks they've made, he said they were strategic strikes that crippled their defenses before they ever had a chance to fight back or defend themselves. He thinks they must have had some sort of inside help. And now, if they don't stop the Vindarr, his people will be completely wiped out. They can no longer defend themselves or their people, not without some help."

As she listened to Anna tell the story, Elsa felt the strain on her heart grow. She felt for this man and his people, but she had to think of her own kingdom above all others. She sank to the couch next to her sister. "I understand their predicament as I did before," she said calmly. "And I'm sorry they are in it. But my answer is still no." She knew she sounded cold and unaffected by Erik's plight, though it couldn't be further from the truth.

Anna stared. "You can't be serious."

Elsa lifted a shoulder, her chest warming with a fresh wave of frustration. "What would you have me do, Anna?"

Her sister threw out her hands. "I don't know, send soldiers to help them? If we don't, you might as well be signing a death warrant for innocent people."

"So, instead, you would have me sign the same warrants for our soldiers?" Elsa shook her head, a wave a dizziness washed over her, but she pushed it away. She needed her sister to understand. "I will not send our people to fight in a war we have nothing to do with. We don't even know that the Vindarr are the true aggressors here."

"Their people will die without help," Anna snapped. "They aren't asking for much."

"I'm sorry," Elsa replied, working to keep a lid on her frustration. "But the risk that would come with moving even a small portion of the military into another territory without proper reasoning comes at a substantial risk to _our_ people. I truly am sorry, but I must do what is best for them."

"How is the fact their people are being killed not proper reasoning?"

Elsa exhaled roughly and stood. "It's not that simple, Anna. There's more to consider then just one tribe."

"Like what?" Anna rose, crossing her arms once more.

Elsa drew in a heavy breath then released it, trying to figure out how to summarize everything that had gone into her decision, how to turn the hours of rationalizing and debating into a thirty-second, bite-sized chunk. Her head spun, and she reached out to grip the back of a chair as a wave of dizziness swept over her. "Other countries are already on edge about Arendelle," she forced out, the lingering tiredness further souring her mood. "About _me,_ and my powers. If we—if _I_ move the military into uncontested territory there is a very high chance other countries will take notice and react."

Her sister continued to press, not noticing the stress the conversation was causing. "Instead, you would sacrifice an entire people in order to save face with other kingdoms so they can feel safe and secure. Well, what a benevolent queen you've become."

Cold swirled around Elsa's fingertips as her temper flared. "Don't you dare mock me," she snapped at Anna. "You have no idea what it takes to rule a kingdom."

Anna threw her hands up into the air. "This has nothing to do with ruling! Sometimes you just have to do the right thing. This _is_ the right thing."

"I will not put our people at risk to help our enemy."

"So, what, you'll let them die because you're too scared to do the hard thing? What a surprise, I guess nothing has changed after all."

Elsa swallowed back the vicious retort that threatened to climb out her mouth. She pulled away from the chair, standing tall. "I'm trying to protect our people."

"At what cost?"

"Any cost!" She stepped toward her sister.

"Is that the same excuse you told yourself when you ran away to the North Mountain? When you hid from the world?" Anna matched her step, moving forward herself. "From me?"

Elsa's mouth dropped open, and she backed away, a wave of heaviness washing over her as she remembered her sister asking almost the same question three months ago, right before everything went spectacularly horrible. "Enough, Anna," she said sharply, echoing her own words from that night.

"No," Anna persisted. "I don't think it is. You keep saying that you're trying to be more open, but you keep making the same mistakes in new ways. Where you even going to tell me about the Sirma? Or were you just going to hide that too, like you do everything else."

"I said enough, Anna!" Elsa could not keep the heat of anger from her voice but held back the ice pressing at her fingertips. "I am not required to tell you anything, and I do not have to explain myself. You've never had the weight of a crown on your head, and you couldn't possibly understand the pressure and responsibility."

"Stop treating me like a child!" Anna shouted, cheeks nearly glowing they were so red.

"Then stop acting like one!"

Anna bit down on her lip, finally exercising some self-restraint of her own. "Fine," she said, seething. "If you won't help them, then I will."

Elsa narrowed her gaze, not liking the direction this was heading. "Anna," she warned.

"I might not be the Queen, but I'm not powerless either, and I can—"

"No," Elsa interrupted, harsh and resounded. Her fingers curled into a tight fist at her side. She understood her sister's desire to help those who needed it and was always lenient with letting Anna get away with things most would never allow, but she was still Queen and would not have her authority usurped by anyone. Including her own sister. "You can not." Her voice was low, but sharp, like the deadly edge of a blade. "You are _currently_ my heir. Any power you have is given and taken away at _my_ sole discretion." Elsa allowed her words to sink in before continuing. "I have made my decision, and the answer is no. This discussion is over." It was the first time she had used such a tone with Anna; the first time she had given such an unquestionable command, one that brooked no dissent.

She saw it written plainly across her sister's face when Anna realized the same thing. Her sister's posture stiffened, and she looked at Elsa with a shocked, deeply pained look. Tears welled in her eyes as she spun on her foot and stormed out of the room.

As she watched her sister go, Elsa felt all the energy drop leech out of her, suddenly feeling exhausted. She sunk into the nearest chair and pressed her fingers against her closed eyelids. Nausea twisted her gut, but she couldn't tell if it was because of the cold she was nursing or the expression on her sister's face. One thing was for sure—tomorrow was going to be a very tense, quiet trip back to Arendelle.


	7. The Plunge

Anna had spent years trying to break down the figurative walls between her and Elsa, but right now she wanted nothing more than to put as many literal walls between them as she could. She brushed past Alarik in the hall, head down and walking as fast as she could toward the door that promised freedom, and escape from her sister. She wasn't taking a guard or any sort of escort with her, just to spite Elsa. Anna knew that she was perfectly safe in the village, and with Erik, her sister just worried too much.

She pushed through the door, pausing on the wide stoop long enough to take a deep breath, reining in her feelings of disappointment and betrayal. Anna squared her shoulders and set off toward town. She had promised Erik that she would meet him, relay what Elsa said. She had expected to have good news, hadn't thought the conversation with her sister would go the way it did. She had been so sure that Elsa would help, that the no she had initially given in response was made without knowing the full story, or was a mistake.

But she'd been wrong. Very wrong.

Anna walked purposefully along the road, slowing her pace as she approached the small inn on the outskirts of the village. Before she and Erik had parted ways, he told her he and his brother were staying here for the next few days, before continuing their trip to Arendelle. Inside the inn was a brightly lit common room, with wide windows and a roaring fireplace. It was still early afternoon, and the inn was empty, most patrons off working or shopping. Anna spotted her friend seated in a chair near the fireplace.

Erik looked up, smiling as he caught sight of her. "Anna," he greeted. His smile faded when she didn't return the expression. His shoulders slumped. "I get the feeling you don't have good news."

Anna shook her head, then dropped into the chair across from him with a huff. "I don't understand why she won't help." She lowered her gaze to the table between them and picked at a loose splinter with her fingernails. "I mean, she's not usually this . . ." She twisted her hand in the air as she searched for the right word. When it didn't come to her, she sighed and slouched in her seat. "I thought for sure she'd help."

Erik didn't say anything, but his disappointment was palpable, like a third person sitting with them. Anna felt a sudden need to come to her sister's defense, although she still didn't understand Elsa's decision. The reasons Elsa gave her, they all made some sense, but didn't seem big enough to hold back aid when the alternative was the destruction of another people. Anna raised her gaze, meeting Erik's eyes. Arendelle's help had been the last hope of his people. "I'm sorry," she offered weakly, unable to think of a word in Elsa's defense that she could say convincingly when seeing his despair.

Erik slumped in his seat and dragged a hand down his face. "I had really hoped you would be able to convince her to help us," he said, voice muffled by his hand.

"And I really thought she would help," Anna said. "I don't understand . . ." She didn't want to repeat herself, but she was feeling lost in a haze of confusion. "She said she couldn't send any military force into an area outside the kingdom without proper reasoning." She knew there had to be more going on than just that, something her sister hadn't seen fit to tell her. But then, there were a lot of things her sister didn't feel the need to tell her. "Erik, I'm not sure there is anything I can do to help you. Elsa was clear on her decision, painfully so." Anna winced, remembering their argument. "If I tried to do anything now, I think it would just make things worse. For everyone."

Erik sat for a long moment with his fist pressed to his mouth, staring at her. "No," he finally said. "No, I don't want that." He exhaled and dropped his arm, rapped his knuckles against the tabletop. "I appreciate your attempt to help. It's certainly a blow not to have Queen Elsa's support, but my people have been around for centuries. We will endure this storm, like we have many that have come before it. We will just have to adjust our strategy."

Anna tilted her head, feeling even angrier with Elsa and more sympathetic with Erik's plight. She opened her mouth to tell him she would try again, that she would go right back to Baron Oskar's and corner her sister and make her understand. But before she could, another voice broke the heavy silence from behind her.

"Luckily for us, I have been working on that very thing."

Anna twisted and found a man standing next to her chair. He looked vaguely familiar and dressed similarly to Erik, but was taller, with broad shoulders and a muscled build that spoke of years of combat training.

"Tyr?"

Anna looked back to Erik, and realized that this was his older brother, the leader of their village. She started to introduce herself to the older man, but the look on Erik's face stopped her.

Tyr stepped up to the table and offered a small bow. "Your Highness. Perhaps there is still a way you can help our cause."

Something about the way he said it sent shivers down Anna's spine. Suddenly, she regretted her decision to leave the safety of the Baron's home without a guard.

* * *

Alarik stepped into the hall, pulling the door to his father's study shut behind him. He dragged a hand through his already mussed hair and let out a deep breath. A small part of him currently regretting his decision to come home on leave. Experience should have warned him, he and his father would spend the entire time at odds with each other. They never seemed to run short of things to argue about. He meandered through the house, his mind replaying the events of the past few days.

He had received a letter from his father about a month ago requesting his return. The letter had been missing half a page; the postmaster looking disheveled and muttering nonsense, Alarik felt it best not to bother the man further. In hindsight, he probably should have pressed him, seeing as the missing half of the letter had contained the details of why his father wanted him to return home. The man had always been one for tradition and customs and a proper way of doing things, something Alarik disagreed with. Tradition and customs had their place, but sometimes you had to look at the person behind the title. Like Queen Elsa, who seemed to be someone far, far more than just her title. He could tell the woman went much deeper beneath the surface than any noble he'd ever met.

Most nobles were quick to make sure people knew their rank and title, exactly how 'important' they were. The Queen, however, allowed him to go half the day believing she was no more than a maid to the Princess. In the few hours they spent together, while Alarik could plainly see that she was highly intelligent and well-educated, she acted nothing like he imagined the Queen of Arendelle would. Elsa was not the cold, shut-in Ice Queen people spoke of. He couldn't help but to smile, thinking of her awkward mud-covered grin, full of mischief, as her sister introduced her as the Queen. No, she was not like any noble he'd ever met.

The sound of raised voices coming from one of the nearby drawing rooms pulled Alarik from his pleasant thoughts. He looked around, got his bearings, surprised to see how far from his father's study he had wandered. As he drew closer, he recognized the voices, and could tell from the rapidly increasing volume of the conversation that it was not going well. He knew he should walk away; eavesdropping was always a bad idea and eavesdropping on a private conversation between the royal family seemed like a good way for one to lose their head. But he found himself stepping closer still. Like watching a sinking ship, you didn't want to watch, but you couldn't quite look away either.

"I'm trying to protect our people." The Queen's voice raised just enough for him to make out the words.

"At what cost?"

"Any cost!"

Alarik frowned. He couldn't help but wonder what they were talking about, but their voices dropped again, making it hard to distinguish what they were saying. As a military officer his mind spun with the possibilities of what they could be arguing about, what it had to do with the people and why the Queen and Princess would be disagreeing. From everything he remembered about his conversations with Anna, her older sister had always been her hero. That they would fight so viciously —

"Stop treating me like a child!"

"Then stop acting like one!"

Now there was a familiar exchange; one he'd had with his own siblings, particularly his younger brother, Danel. As the voices dropped in volume once more, Alarik took it as his cue to allow the sisters their privacy, and make a swift retreat. Before he got himself in even more trouble.

He walked a few feet from the room when the door flung open. Anna rushed out, looking like she was just barely holding back tears. Alarik wanted to say something to her, but she barreled past without seeing him, her gaze set on the exit at the end of the hall, the one that led straight to the village. He watched her leave the house, debating whether he should go after her and make sure she was okay. Then he remembered the reason the sisters were still in Valle. The Queen had fallen ill, something that he felt at least partially if not fully responsible for. Alarik didn't get sick often but knew was well aware how draining even the smallest of activities could be even with a simple cold. He knew an argument like the one he had just overheard couldn't have helped her condition.

Alarik cautiously entered the room Anna had just exited. The Queen in a chair on the far side, her elbows braced on her thighs and head resting on her clasped hands, looking far smaller and more vulnerable than he would have expected. He hesitated, knowing it wasn't his place to interfere and that he shouldn't have been listening in the first place, but he also knew that he couldn't stand idly by while someone was in pain just because of their title.

"Good to know family problems exist no matter your station," he said, trying for a joke.

Elsa startled at the sound of his voice, her head jerking upright. Her eyes widened before blinking hard, as though struggling to focus. Her cheeks colored, and she drew herself up. "I apologize for . . . that. It shouldn't have happened."

Alarik lifted a shoulder. "I'm pretty sure the Queen doesn't need to apologize for anything," he told her, hoping to lighten the mood.

Elsa wrinkled her nose, as though she disapproved of the statement. Or the sentiment.

_Interesting._

"Regardless," she said, folding her hands in her lap and suddenly looking formal and very closed-off. "We are guests in your home, and such conduct is unbecoming."

Alarik pressed his lips together. He could practically see the walls coming up around Elsa, like she was trying to hide behind them. In a way, it helped to bring into focus how upset she truly was. He took a gamble, based on what he had learned about her the day before. Sinking onto the couch next to her, he asked, "are you okay?"

Elsa turned to him with wide eyes, but then her mask slipped away, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "How much did you hear?"

Alarik winced. "I didn't hear much. I was coming from my father's office, having just finished my own, though less heated, argument. I heard yelling, some insults." He glanced toward the door. "Your sister seemed pretty upset. She practically ran me over on her way out the house."

Elsa sighed, her frown deepening. "It's—" She looked thoughtfully toward the door. "She left? The estate?"

He nodded. "She was heading into town, I assume." The door she'd left through had a path right outside that led straight into the village.

"And would I be correct in assuming she was alone?"

It was less a question and more a statement, but Alarik nodded in confirmation.

Elsa sighed, rubbing her fingers against her forehead. He could see a hint of blue misting around her fingertips, though it could have just been a trick of the light. He thought of the frozen fjord from three months ago, the rumor that the queen had caused it, that she had magical powers over ice and snow. When the Admiral had briefed the officers on what had happened in Arendelle, he'd thought the man had been pulling a joke on them, or had gone off the deep end. He still held his doubts of the fantastical story.

"I swear, she does this just to spite me," Elsa muttered.

Before Alarik could respond, she stood and moved toward the door. Caught off-guard by the sudden shift in her demeanor, he hurried to follow her, catching up as she stalked down the hallway.

"Where are the kitchens?" she demanded.

"Just that way." He pointed to a hall that branched off from the main rooms. It was still early afternoon; the staff were likely taking their lunch in the kitchen. The queen must have known that, and Alarik suddenly wondered what she had in mind. "I'll show you," he offered, feeling a bit bad for the staff, wondering if she realized the heart attack that she was about to give them by entering so unexpectedly.

* * *

Captain Jogeir waited patiently as his coffee brewed, taking a moment to breathe deeply and inhale the rich smell of the life-giving liquid. There was no better smell in the world than that of a crisp autumn afternoon mixed with the dark scent of freshly brewed coffee; and he would fight anyone who disagreed. But considering Queen Elsa had expressed her agreement during a recent meeting, he doubted anyone would dare. No one disagreed with the Queen.

Not that Queen Elsa was a difficult person to deal with, or that she didn't listen to the opinions of others. Quite the opposite, in fact. Jogeir hadn't known much about the reclusive young woman until after the heartbreaking loss of the King and Queen, when he became Captain of the new Queen's guard. His first impression had been one of a timid girl lost in a world of cut-throat politics and unprepared for the rule of a kingdom that had been dropped on her shoulders.

It hadn't taken long for Jogeir to realize just how far off the mark he'd been. The Queen was neither timid nor lost; she listened to everything happening around her. Filed away even mundane asides to be used to her advantage later. In their time together, he found himself impressed with her forethought and learned to appreciate the Queen as a true strategist and tactician. It was these traits, however, that made it hard to argue with her. By the time she came to a decision, it was a safe assumption that she had done her research, debated the issue from all sides, and had become as much of a subject matter expert as she could. If you wanted to argue with the Queen, you had better come to the table as prepared as she was. Jogeir had watched many cocky dignitaries and nobles make that very mistake. That being said, there were still certain subject areas in which she defaulted to the expertise of her advisors, understanding that knowledge didn't always trump experience.

But that didn't mean the Queen was without her faults and shortcomings. Though she hid it well, Queen Elsa could be short-tempered when deprived of sleep, which had unfortunately become a common occurrence since her coronation. There was an unspoken understanding among many of the advisors and castle staff that, despite consistently being up with the sun, the Queen wasn't actually a morning person, and any bad news was best received at the earliest three hours after she had woken.

Jogeir had served the royal family for many years and felt both honored and privileged in his duty. His only regret was that he should have been onboard with the King and Queen when they sailed out. But the trip had been a last-minute decision, and he had already scheduled leave to visit his newborn nephew. He tried to cancel, but the King had adamantly refused, stating that if something happened during their journey, he needed the Captain there to protect his daughters. Thinking of the dark sea and how dangerous travel could be during the stormy autumn season, he tried to convince the King that it would be safer to make the trip in Spring, but he could not sway the man. The King telling him that his daughters had spent too many years apart and their current approach was no longer working. He was convinced there were answers in a place called Ahtohallan.

Despite his regret for not being on the ship with the King, Jogeir knew he was no sailor, and that it was unlikely he would have been able to do anything to save them. The sea was as unforgivable and untamable as a winter storm.

At the end of the day, Captain Jogeir was honored to serve the royal family, and swore he'd do for his Queen what he could not for his King.

The coffee finished brewing, pulling the Captain from his musings. He poured a large cup, inhaling the rich aroma. He looked around the large kitchen where the household staff was taking their lunch, as well as one of his three fellow guards who had made the journey to Valle. The other two were currently patrolling the estate, ensuring everything was in order. Queen Elsa had proved to be a devoted and well-liked Queen, but after thirteen years of isolation and a sudden exposure of magic powers, there were those not exactly thrilled with the idea of such a queen. He'd heard a few rumors floating around but hadn't come across anything substantial, at least nothing worth reporting to the Queen. But that didn't mean Jogeir wasn't going to take all necessary precautions and treat each as a potential threat.

He had just put the cup of coffee to his lips when the kitchen door opened, the Baron's oldest son stepping in to hold the door for the Queen. An impressive silence fell over the room, before the staff gathered around the table jumped to their feet in a mad rush of activity. Jogeir was fairly certain he heard a bowl clatter to the floor. The scene would have been comical if not for the stormy look on his Queen's face.

"Your Majesty," he greeted, straightening his posture.

"Captain." She did not seem to notice the others in the room—an immediate red flag. "I need you and your men to meet me in front of the manor in ten minutes."

"Yes, ma'am."

Without another word, the Queen turned on her heel and left the room. Jogeir looked to Alarik, hoping for some sort of clue to what was going on, but the young man simply shrugged as he followed her out of the room. He set his coffee aside.


	8. Chapter 8

With no one around to bear witness, Elsa groaned softly and folded one arm across her waist, pressing the fingertips of her other hand against her hot-feeling forehead. The argument with her sister had done no favors for the insistent throb behind her eyes, but she would manage. She'd grown used to working through headaches. Since the blow to her head from her own chandelier four months earlier, she'd been having headaches more frequently than ever before. Nothing incapacitating, but minor annoyances that made the rest of the day pass uncomfortably. When they were still occurring two months after her initial injury, she reluctantly went to her physician about it. Malthe gave her an herbal tea to help with the pain, assuring her it was normal after such an injury and should taper off in a few months. He also made a less than subtle comment about how the prolonged discomfort could have been avoided with proper, timely rest and recovery. Elsa had taken the comment in stride, silently accepting that she couldn't complain about the knife being dug in deeper when it was her own hand around the hilt. She was fairly certain that a second concussion wasn't helping things along, as far as healing went.

Elsa dropped her hand from her head and pulled her shoulders back. She walked toward her temporary wardrobe, unlacing the ties on her dress. She felt bad for yelling at Anna the way she had; the conversation had spiraled out of control faster than she could keep up with, and between the blossoming headache and her sister's stubborn will she'd lost her temper. She didn't regret what she said, only how she had said it. Elsa loved her sister dearly, but Anna could be so naïve, not to mention infuriatingly stubborn, once she latched on to an idea.

She knew where the girl was heading, because she knew Anna would do everything within her power to help someone she felt was in need, to the point she would push forward blindly, regardless of the cost. Elsa preferred to find a way to compromise with her sister when disagreed on an issue, but this was one instance where she could not give Anna any ground. They were sisters before anything, but Elsa could not make this decision without doing so as Queen. This time, she didn't need her sister to understand her reasoning, but she did expect her to listen. Anna wasn't just putting herself at risk by her insistence on helping the Sirma, but risking the safety of all Arendelle, and Elsa could not allow that. She was determined to put an end to this matter before it spiraled out of her control.

She felt a twinge of guilt over interrupting the staff's lunch, not to mention the abrupt ending she had put to her guards' well-earned downtime, but she wanted this matter settled immediately. Her guard would be waiting for her at the front of the house, and Alarik was having his stablemaster prepare her horse.

Elsa grabbed a pair of dark grey leggings from inside the wardrobe, and a dark blue off-shoulder dress. The dress was adorned with sliver embroidering, opening at the hip across to the opposite knee, leaving legs exposed allowing for freedom of movement, making it perfect for riding. She finished the outfit with a matching silvery-blue sash around her waist and the same black calf-high boots she'd worn on her last adventure. She made a mental note to thank the maid for managing to remove the mud. She studied her reflection and nodded sharply, then headed out of the room to where her guards would no doubt be gathered already.

"Your Majesty," Captain Jogeir greeted her, with a sharp salute. The rest of the guard stood in a line behind him.

"Captain." Elsa dipped her head. "I want you and your guards to go into the village. There are men there from one of the tribes to the north of our borders. I am not sure how many. I want them all detained, but not harmed. You are to hold them until soldiers from Sioaskard Fortress can retrieve them and see them escorted out of the kingdom."

"And if they resist, Your Majesty?"

Elsa pressed her lips into a thin line. "Any acts of aggression should be met with equal force. If you require more manpower, tell Baron Oskar you have my orders to use whatever men he has both here and in the village."

"Yes, ma'am."

"If my sister is with them," she continued, working her jaw. "She is to be escorted back to the estate and remain here until I return. If she is not, have one of your guards find her in the village and stay with her. I don't care how much she objects. They are to stay by her side as though their very lives depend on it."

"Yes, ma'am." The captain nodded. He frowned then, cleared his throat.

Elsa could see the questions in his eyes. "Go ahead, Captain."

"You said until you return. If Your Majesty doesn't mind my asking . . ."

"I will be riding up to Sioaskard," she said. "I have some things to discuss with the commander. It's only a few hours away and I will be back in the morning."

"If there are northmen about, I believe it might be prudent for a guard to accompany you," the Captain said. "Just to be safe."

"I'll be going with the Queen."

Elsa looked over her shoulder and saw Alarik approaching, the reins of her horse and another clutched in his hands. She had planned on riding alone and using the time to clear her head, thinking things through, but the Captain was right. She was the Queen and with foreigners close by, it wasn't safe to go alone. She couldn't very well criticize her sister for something and then do the very same thing.

She turned back to the Jogeir. "Alarik is a captain in the Royal Navy. Will that satisfy your concern?"

The Captain stared appraisingly at Alarik before nodding. "Yes, ma'am, I believe that will."

"Good." Elsa took the reins of her horse and slid her foot into the stirrup, grabbing hold of the saddle to lift herself up, swinging her leg over the horse. "I will have Sioaskard's commander send a detachment of men down as soon as I arrive to retrieve the northmen."

"Safe travels, Your Majesty," Jogeir said with a salute. The guards standing behind him snapped to attention and did the same.

Elsa settled into the saddle, giving Alarik time to do the same before she dug her heels into Garnet's sides and headed toward the road that lead to Sioaskard.

* * *

They had been riding in near silence for nearly an hour, the beat of the horses' hooves against the rocky dirt path and the natural noises of the forest surrounding them the only sound breaking up the quiet. Alarik had toyed with the idea of starting a conversation several times since they departed Valle but each time, one look at the Queen discouraged him. Her steely-eyed demeanor had slipped away since they began the ride, but in its place was now a deeply pensive look. She was clearly lost in her own thoughts, locked in some internal debate.

His mind kept playing back the argument he overheard. Alarik was familiar with the heated fights that were commonplace among siblings, having had plenty with his own brother and sisters. He would have brushed this one off as such an argument, and therefore none of his business, but the Queen had seemed positively infuriated by her sister, and the little bit he heard sounded like the matter they were discussing was much more than a simple disagreement between sisters.

As he rode next to the Queen it occurred to Alarik that while he'd known Anna for many years, it had been built over time watered down to into annual week-long increments, visits that had ceased three years earlier. He didn't truly _know_ the Princess any more than he knew Elsa, who had allowed him to think and treat her like she was nothing more than a maid when she was really the single most important person in the whole of the kingdom. He knew next to nothing about her; no one knew anything about her due to the fact she had spent thirteen years in isolation. What he had to draw from was a fantastical, hard-to-believe story about ice powers and the rumors that had surrounded the royal family's sudden withdraw from public life.

One of the more prevailing, and believable. rumors that had been circulating over the past four months was that the Queen and Princess were extremely close, to the point of being damn near inseparable in their free time. Having seen them interact with each other and remembering Anna's words from the other day, he had an easy time believing those rumors than any other he'd heard. Especially considering the prolonged separation they suffered growing up. A thought that brought him back to his original wondering: what could have caused such an intense argument between them?

Conflicted, Alarik decided the only way to settle his overly curious mind was to strike up a conversation with the Queen and hope it doesn't end poorly. "You want to talk about it?"

"It?" Elsa's gaze didn't move from the road.

"Whatever is weighing so heavily on your mind."

She looked over, silently taking his measure before returning her gaze to the road. Alarik caught the crack in her mask, the same one she'd shown in the drawing room just after the argument with her sister. He had never been known for his patience, but he waited quietly for her speak, the air tense enough to be cut with a knife. Just as he was about to give up and change the subject, the Queen broke the silence.

She sighed heavily. "There are a great many things that weigh on my mind. If you are looking for something specific. . ."

Alarik shrugged, feeling encouraged. "Whatever is currently weighing the most, Your Majesty."

Elsa rolled her lips against her teeth. "Earlier you said that you had been arguing with your father, and in the stables the other day you eluded to being in disagreement with him." She picked at the hem of her skirt. "If you don't mind my asking, do you and your father not get along?"

"Good memory," Alarik said. _And subtle deflection,_ he added silently. "My father and I . . ." He struggled to find a way to best summarize their relationship. "He wasn't happy with my choice to join the military. He felt that as his heir I should stay here and learn the finer points of running a barony. I have a lot of respect for my father, and his wishes, but joining the Navy was important to me. It may sound silly, but I felt a sort of . . . inexplicable pull to do so. So, I joined."

Her gaze narrowed thoughtfully, like she was recalling a distant memory. The faintest of smiles ghosted across Elsa's lips before she spoke. "It doesn't sound all that silly."

"Glad someone thinks so." He said with a smirk, then cleared his throat. "So, naturally, my first year in the Navy, Arendelle went to war in defense of an ally who was being invaded."

"I remember. it was a short-lived war, but . . ."

"Violent," Alarik finished for her, nodding solemnly. "I managed to come back in one piece, and my father all but ordered me to leave the Navy. We argued for days on end, and at one point he even threatened to disinherit me. But I couldn't leave. I still felt that pull to stay. It took a while but it seemed like he finally accepted it, or at least that he'd given up the argument."

"So, the argument today?"

Alarik opened his mouth to answer but stopped short, reminding himself that he wasn't talking to just anyone but to the Queen of Arendelle. Suddenly he wasn't sure how to phrase his words to cause the least amount of problems. On the other hand, no one knew the state of the country better than the Queen, and perhaps this was a good opportunity to learn how much truth there was in idle chatter.

She turned to him, her gaze filled with curiosity, "If it's a private matter, you don't have to tell me."

"No, no. It's not. I just . . ." He licked his lips, choosing his words with care. "With everything that has happened recently, there have been rumors of the possibility of Arendelle being involved in another war."

Elsa eyes widened. She turned away, dropping her gaze to her lap, looking more like a young girl struggling to manage an impossible task as opposed to the commanding Queen that had given orders to her guard just a few short hours ago.

"Your Majesty, are there truth to the rumors?" It wasn't his place to ask, only to follow the orders given to him, but he felt the need anyway.

"No," she said, though her tone and posture spoke a different story. She took a deep breath, and Alarik saw the mask slip a little more. "There are—" She chuckled mirthlessly. "I feel like I have been on both ends of this conversation far too many times these past months."

"Ma'am, you don't have to explain yourself if you do not wish to."

"Glad someone thinks so," she said with an amused huff. "And please, just call me Elsa."

Alarik's eyes widened in surprise, though their interactions had been anything but formal. "Are you sure?"

"We are alone and miles away from anyone who cares about titles," Elsa said, clearly exasperated. "I am called 'ma'am' and 'Majesty' so often that I sometimes fear I shall forget my own name."

Alarik couldn't help but chuckle. "Very well then, Elsa."

"As for your question, I have no intentions of taking Arendelle to war with anyone. That being said, there are a few countries that are . . . uneasy with the idea of a Queen who has magic. The amount of power and the ease in which I used it . . ." She drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. "There are a lot of eyes on Arendelle right now, and on me, and I am trying to do what I can to show other nations that they have nothing to fear from us. I didn't spend thirteen years isolated from everyone just to allow one slip to doom my country."

Alarik sat still on his horse for a long, quiet moment before he shook his head, blowing out a deep breath. He couldn't begin to fathom the pressure of ruling a kingdom, let alone the complication of possessing magic like Elsa did. It was a lot of strain for a young Queen, perhaps more than any one person could - or at least should - handle.

He tilted his head, empathy, not sympathy, leading him to ask, "Is that what you and your sister were arguing about?"

Silence yawned between them as Elsa took a moment before answering. She sighed. "It played a large part, yes. Anna—"

A sharp _twang_ and _thunk_ of something hitting the tree directly behind them kept her from finishing the thought. Alarik brought his horse to a stop and twisted in his saddle to see a taunt rope stretched across the road. Before he had a chance to act or even speak, a second _twang_ and _thunk_ sounded in front of them and another arrow embedded itself in a tree, a length of rope attached. They were boxed in on the narrow road, cut off from retreating and advancing. The rope was too low to ride under, and too high to jump.

It was a trap.

The horses pawed nervously at the ground. Alarik drew his sword from its scabbard, cursing himself for not bringing anything more. Out of the corner of his eye, Elsa appeared calmer than he would have expected, given their situation. She leaned forward and rubbed a hand down her horse's neck, soothing the anxious animal, but her gaze was focused on the tree line.

Alarik considered cutting the rope and making a run for it, started urging his horse forward when a man stepped out of the woods just on the other side of the barrier. Another stepped out of the woods behind them.

"Fine day for a ride," the man said. He was strangely dressed, wearing leathers lined with fur, and carried a crossbow in one hand. Alarik spotted various smaller weapons lashed to his belt.

"Identify yourself," he called out, guiding his horse to turn sideways in the road, keeping both men in his sight. If these were mere thieves, and he were alone, Alarik knew he could take them both on. But he was not alone, and he worried about one of the men taking a cheap shot at the Queen, or worse, having unseen friends lying in wait in the woods.

"They're northmen," Elsa said, "from the Sirma tribe." That stormy look had returned to her features.

"Sirma?" Alarik was not familiar with the tribe's name, but knew it was a group of northmen that the Queen had sent her guards into town to detain. But trip to Sioaskard had been made at the last minute, and no one in town should have known she would be traveling this route. It occurred to him then that it was possible the Sirma had tracked them from the manor and waited until it was a good time to spring a trap. He cursed quietly under his breath. He should have been more aware of their surroundings.

"I see it's true that Arendelle's Queen is as intelligent as she is beautiful," the northman said with a toothy smile.

The grin immediately set Alarik on edge. "What do you want?" he asked.

The man tore his gaze from Elsa and glanced at him with distaste, quickly returning his attention to the Queen. He bowed deeply. "I am here to extend an invitation to the Queen of Arendelle on behalf of Tyr, Chief of the Sirma."

Elsa frowned tightly. "I have already given your chief my answer. Threatening me will not change it."

"Tyr merely wishes to speak with you," the man replied calmly. "He has a proposition he thinks you might be interested in. That's all."

Alarik between the men surrounding them. "You are well-armed for people who just want to talk."

"The woods can be dangerous," spoke up the man at their rear, with a leering grin.

"So, it seems."

A tense silence fell over the group. Alarik turned to Elsa, allowing her to make the decision on what they would do. He was still unsure whether it was just these men or there were more hiding in the woods, but he had not come prepared for a fight. He had no more than a sword, while the men on either side had the advantage of ranged weapons. Though his instinct was to protect Elsa, he worried that any sudden action on his part would leave her open to attack. He would have to remain on the defensive and wait to see who made the first move. "Queen Elsa?" he prompted quietly.

She sat perfectly still on her mount, watching the man in front of her with a narrowed gaze. A moment passed that may have been second but felt like hours, and then she raised her chin and pulled her shoulders back. "Very well." Her voice was as steady and commanding as it had been at the front of the manor in Valle. "I will accept his invitation to talk. But this will be the last time I have to have this conversation."

* * *

Elsa tightened her grip on Garnet's reins, concealing the tremor in her hands. Her head ached, a hot pulse behind her eyes that wasn't being helped by the rhythmic rocking of riding horseback, not to mention the stress of being led to some unknown location against her will. No. She wasn't going against her will; she was going with these men of her own accord. And once they brought her to Tyr, their chief, she would ensure it was the last she heard of these northmen. She lifted her chin, refusing to look at any of the four men flanking her and Alarik. There had in fact been two additional men concealed in the woods, most likely in case she refused to go peaceably.

There had been some arguing over Alarik's sword, the northmen wanting to relieve him of it while Alarik was understandably reluctant. They allowed him to keep it after Elsa pointed out that the group of northmen had between them four crossbows, a spear, and a variety of other small weapons, and Alarik carried a single sword. It was a thin play on the men's pride, but one that paid off, allowed him to remain armed.

After ten minutes on the main road the northmen led them to a narrower side path that was overgrown and rough, with lose rocks and shallow divots. The path wasn't wide enough for the horses to walk side by side, forcing Elsa and Alarik to fall into a line with one of the Sirma warriors walking on either side. Alarik didn't have to say anything for Elsa to see his displeasure in the formation. He clearly didn't want her to be in the front but also didn't want her out of his sight. She rotated in her saddle enough to offer him a reassuring smile, but it did nothing to change the dark look on his face.

With the Sirma so close Elsa had to struggle to keep her magic in check, fear and anger warring for her attention. She embraced the anger, knowing it might cause her magic to be more volatile, but it had always been easier to control than when she gave in to her fear. A few times frost began to gather on the bridle clenched in her hands, and she had to subtly will it away. There was also a noticeable temperature drop in the air around her, coming from her, but she knew there was little she could do at the moment without being obvious about it, and she didn't know what these northmen knew about her. She certainly didn't want to give them any more information than they already had.

After another thirty minutes of riding the forest opened into a clearing, a small yard and hunting cabin that reminded Elsa of the old Viking long houses she had seen in books, except for the narrow windows dotting the side at regular intervals. The building looked solidly intact, but like it hadn't been used in years. The only maintenance that appeared to have been done was what bare minimum was required to keep the structure from collapsing under its own weight. She brought her horse to a gentle stop just inside the yard and waited for Alarik to come up alongside her.

"Well," he said, his voice low and less than enthusiastic, "this doesn't look like a trap at all."

"Mm." Elsa pressed her lips together in a tight line. She couldn't help but agree; a tight pressure in her chest warned her that something was terribly wrong. Sioaskard Fortress wasn't expecting them, but she told her guard she would be back by morning. Assuming she didn't return on time, the Captain would likely send a rider up to the fortress to verify if she was there, but even their fastest rider would take hours to reach the fortress and return to Valle with news of their absence. She squinted up at the sky. It was late afternoon now, meaning if she was not in Valle by morning nearly an entire day would pass before the captain knew anything was wrong. A lot could happen over the course of a day.

She had options. The persistent throb behind her eyes reminded her that her magic was unstable and unpredictable, at best, but if the Sirma weren't expecting it she could take them by surprise. Freezing all four men simultaneously seemed a tall order on a good day, let alone with her head pounding the way it was. Not to mention the fact she also didn't know how many more Sirma might be in the house or the surrounding woods, and if they had been trailing her and Alarik since they left the Baron's manor there would be no way to know until it was too late.

"Your Majesty?" Alarik prompted quietly.

Elsa took a deep breath and released it out slowly. She turned to him and nodded, then braced her hands against her saddle and swung herself to the ground. She pulled the bridle over Garnet's head and scratched his nose before leading him to wooden post to tie him off. She waited by the post for Alarik to join her, then turned her attention to the northmen standing close by. She folded her hands in front of her and lifted her chin. "After you," she said to the man who had originally addressed them, her tone chilly.

He scowled but walked past them toward the front of the house. "This way." He pulled open the door for them while the other Sirma hung back, waiting until Elsa and Alarik moved toward the door before following them uncomfortably closely.

She resisted the urge to look over her shoulder at them, uncomfortable with how close they were. People in general standing close still caused her to feel terribly uncomfortable. People not so subtly threatening her was that much worse. She kept her hands folded tightly together, fingers curling around themselves as frost leaked past her fingertips. She breathed deeply, steadily, reigning as much of the magic in as she could.

The inside of the long house was in far better condition than the exterior, leading Elsa to wonder exactly how long the northmen had been in the area and was something she'd be sure to bring up with the commander of Sioaskard. There was a long firepit extending along the center of the main hall, framed by rows of small tables for eating, and an open kitchen at the far end. Along the sides of the room, beyond the tables, there appeared to be additional rooms branching off, though the dim lighting didn't allow her to see much pass the fire.

A man walked up from the far end of the room and bowed deeply. "Queen Elsa, thank you for coming."

There was an obvious nervousness in his voice, and Elsa silently made note of it. She studied the man who had all but threatened her and Alarik for the purpose of getting her here, which was not a great start to any meeting. At first glance, the man appeared harmless enough, but she would not allow her guard to relax. He was still a stranger, and he had forced her into coming here. She was ready to defend herself if necessary.

The man straightened. "My name is Erik, from the Sirma tribes of the North."

 _So, not the leader_. Still, his name struck her memory. "You sent the letter."

"I did." Erik looked to the Sirma standing by and waved them away. The men hesitated, but disappeared deeper into the dark cabin.

Out of the corner of her eye, Elsa saw Alarik step to the side, positioning himself between them and the rest of the northmen. His hand went to his hip, to the hilt of his sword.

Erik likewise watched the movement but didn't say anything about it. He turned back to Elsa and gestured to a table. "Would you like to sit?"

"I prefer to stand." Elsa had no intention of staying any longer than she had to, wanting to put an end to this business quickly.

Erik nodded, winced. "I know our people haven't had the greatest relationship in the past."

"Pillaging my northern settlements certainly put a strain on it, yes. Of course, sending armed men to request a meeting isn't really helping things."

He had the decency to look shamed. "I feel an apology at this point would only ring hollow and self-serving."

Elsa raised an eyebrow. "Smart man."

"I was hoping to make one last plea for help . . ."

Elsa bit back a weary sigh. "As I have stated more times then I like to, Arendelle cannot help your people. I am sorry for what has happened, I truly am. But I must think of my own people first and do what is best for them. What you are asking, moving any part of my military into another territory without proper reasoning comes at great risk. A risk I am unable to take at this time."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

It wasn't Erik who spoke, but another man from somewhere behind him who Elsa couldn't see. She squinted through the dim lightening as he emerged from the darkness and moved to stand a few feet away from Erik.

"Queen Elsa," Erik said in a clipped, tight tone. "This is my brother, Tyr. The chief of our people."

"Your Majesty," Tyr greeted with a nod of his chin. His tone was nothing short of malicious, causing the hair on the back of Elsa's neck to stand on end. "You have to do what's best for your people, no matter the cost. I'm sure you'll appreciate that we must do the same."

Ice pooled in Elsa's stomach and around her fingertips, and she sensed Alarik tense next to her, his hand tightening around the hilt of his sword.

"Tyr." Erik said, the single word coming out like a pleading request.

Tyr turned to his brother, his own expression a neutral mask. Only a hint of anger and determination deepened the creases of his face, exacerbated by the flickering firelight. "We tried it your way, Erik, and you failed." He turned his attention to Elsa, squaring his shoulders. "Now we go with my way."

Erik frowned deeply, taking a step back and folding his arms over his chest, but remaining quiet.

A cocky smirk spread across Tyr's face, and Elsa had a feeling she was not going to like what the man said next. She already found herself detesting, and distrusting, this older brother. She remained silent as Tyr drew himself up.

"Your sister is currently in the care of some of our soldiers," he said. "If you agree to help us, no harm will come to her, and we will let her go."

Elsa felt as though the ground had dropped out from under her. She rocked back a step, the man's words cutting through her like a lance of fire. "Excuse me?" Her attention whipped toward Erik, and she glared daggers at the young man. She was both furious and terrified at the thought of these men having her sister, but for the moment the fury was pushing her as she turned back to Tyr. "You entered my kingdom, threatened me, and now you have the audacity to ask for help with one hand while holding my sister hostage with the other?"

Tyr shrugged, as though they were discussing no more than a minor inconvenience. "You do what you feel is necessary for your people, and we are doing what we feel necessary to protect ours."

Elsa could feel her magic leaking out with her anger, the temperature in the house plummeting as the fire waxed and waned. As she looked between the two brothers, the fear began to push its way to the surface. _Anna_. Her chest seized and her breath hitched, and ice began to collect in a broken circle around her feet. She struggled to ignore it, to maintain her composure. "You are outsiders in my kingdom, and the leader of your people," she said in a low, steady tone. "What you are doing is an act of war."

"Which is why we got insurance first," Tyr returned, looking smug.

She wanted nothing more than to wipe the smirk of the man's face with more violence then she ever thought herself capable of. Her fingers curled into a fist at her side, and blood pounded in her ears. The temperature of the room dropped even further, and from the corner of her eye she saw Erik glance around nervously.

 _Good_ , Elsa thought. _He should be scared_. She drew herself up, locking eyes with Tyr, refusing to be cowed by the man. "I want to see my sister. Now."

* * *

Anna rolled her wrists under their bindings, curling her fingers into fists until her nails dug into her palms, trying to use the bite of pain to ground herself and separate from her increasing fear.

When Tyr had suggested there was a way that she could still help them, her spirits had raised until she saw the look on Erik's face. His pale, solemn expression had immediately put her ill at ease and for once, erring on the side the side of caution. "You know," she'd said, rising slowly from her seat. "I should really be getting back." Back to the safety of the Baron's estate, where she was sure Elsa was waiting with a lecture of some kind. Anna backed away, swearing to herself that she wouldn't even argue the fact she'd earned this one. Tyr had swiftly blocked her path and told her he "insisted" she come with them. Anna had looked to Erik, but while he seemed remorseful look, he did nothing to help. A sting of betrayal rocked her back a step, and she cursed her sister for having the foresight that she herself so badly lacked. Elsa had known not to trust these men right away.

It was two against one – even if Erik didn't seem to be against her, he certainly wasn't _with_ her – and Anna knew her only option in the moment was to concede and hope an opportunity to run for help presented itself. Tyr had led her from the inn into a suffocating small carriage, where two other men were waiting. Men who tied a cloth around her eyes and pressed intimidatingly close to her, making it clear this was not the time to make a run for it. She tried to count to determine how long they rode, to calculate the distance from the inn to wherever they were taking her, but the frantic pounding of her heart kept distracting her and causing her to lose her place. After what seemed like hours but could have been mere minutes, they stopped. Large, rough hands led her into some sort of structure and pushed her into a chair. Her wrists were secured to the armrests with a length of rope, but they thankfully removed the blindfold. Once her eyes had adjusted to the dim light, Anna deduced she was being held in some sort of unused hunting cabin. The group of men left her in a small bedroom off the main room of the cabin, with one standing guard at the doorway. The space was cramped and smelled musty, but it was tidy. Enough so that she clung to the hope that someone would be coming. Someone would find her.

She didn't know what Tyr's plan was, but she heard him speaking with one of the other men, heard him mention her sister's name. Anna's heart dropped, that bit of hope dissipating. It felt like a lifetime had passed since their argument, but it had been heated enough, and she wondered what Elsa would be willing to do to help her, if it came to that. What she would be willing to compromise. Elsa had been livid, angrier with Anna than she could remember ever seeing her be with anyone. She knew her sister loved her and would do almost anything to protect her, but a small nagging voice in the back of Anna's mind kept reminding her of that _almost_. Kept telling her, asking her: what would Elsa risk for her? Would she risk the kingdom? Her throne? Should she? Was it selfish of Anna to want her to?

Someone leaned into the room and beckoned to the guard watching her. He stepped through the open doorway, leaving her alone in the dark, and had a brief, hushed conversation. Anna strained against the chair, struggling to eavesdrop, but couldn't hear anything that was being said, or even see who it was on threshold. She flopped back with a huff.

Anna tried to keep her mind from wandering too much, wanting to focus on her surroundings and find anything that could be used to her advantage. Her back was to the small window that allowed soft light to filter into the room, allowing her see nothing more than a narrow bed across from where she sat. She twisted her wrists once more under their bindings, hoping for some give. She was stopped short by a familiar chill creeping into the room.

Elsa was nearby. The sudden biting cold told Anna that her sister was not happy and was not doing anything to hide that fact. She didn't know whether to feel worried or relieved.

The guard reentered the room, with a second following close by. Anna's heart thudded painfully against her chest.

The man stepped next to her. "Ready to see your sister?" He didn't wait for her answer before he pulled at the knots around her wrists.

Anna tensed up, emboldened by Elsa's presence and thinking this might be her opening to escape, but a second man stepped into the room with a loaded crossbow in his hands. He swung the weapon around to point it in her direction, quickly deflating her hopes. Multiple sets of footsteps sounded from the main room, and her heart thudded painfully in her chest when she heard voices. One was obviously her sister, but Anna could not make out what was being said.

The moment her wrists were loose, the guard brought her hands together and immediately got to work binding them in front of her, before she could even think about making a move. Still, Anna was forced to bite down on the overwhelming urge to fight, to yank her arm free and claw the man in the face. The unspoken threat of the crossbow pointed at her kept her from resisting. _That's fine_ , she thought. _Give them a false sense of security. Then maybe they'll let their guard down._

The man wordlessly gripped Anna's upper arm and roughly pulled her to her feet just as the voices in the main hall rose in volume, specifically Elsa. There was a snap of cold in the air as they immediately dropped too low for her to hear, and frost gathered in the corners of the room. Her hopes rose another fraction, and she braced herself to be ready when the opportunity presented itself.

The guard pulled her out of the room, and the second man with the crossbow followed uncomfortably close behind. Anna had only just stepped out in the main room, eyes adjusting to the change in lighting and barely catching a glimpse of her sister before Erik stepped in front of her, blocking her view.

"I never meant for this to happen," he said, his voice low and remorseful.

Anna clenched her jaw. "Then stop it." She stepped forward, pulling against the guard's hold.

Erik looked over his shoulder to where her sister and his brother stood arguing. "I can't," he said, his shoulders slumping and his chin dropping to his chest. "Whatever else he is, he's my brother."

Anna felt a pang in her chest, understanding the sentiment. This was the same thing she had repeated to herself multiple times as she climbed the North Mountain to reach her own older sibling. But this – this was different. _Right_? It had to be different. Elsa hadn't hurt anyone on _purpose_ ; she'd been scared and reacted out of instinct. Tyr had knowingly taken Anna hostage for his own, still unknown ends. It was a decision he had made intentionally, which meant he was nothing like Elsa. Anna clung to that thought, comforted herself with it.

She mustered the anger warming her chest and glared at Erik. No matter what sins may or may not have been committed by their older siblings, Erik had misled her, and betrayed her. "I trusted you."

Erik looked at her for a long moment without speaking. He sighed heavily and shook his head. "Well then, you can't blame me, can you? It was your mistake." The words were biting, causing Anna to recoil, but his tone spoke volumes of regret.

He walked away without another word, and the guard dragged Anna forward.

Relief and dread swirled in her stomach when she saw her sister standing in the entrance to the cabin. Elsa stood tall, chin held high and hands folded in front of her. She looked every bit the part of a calm, composed, and powerful Queen. Alarik stood at her side, his hand wrapped tightly around the hilt of his sword. The sight of another friendly face nearly had her grinning, until she saw how tightly her sister's hands were clenched. She guessed Elsa was attempting to control the ice that was slowly leaching through the room. Anna knew her older sister was struggling to hold everything together without allowing fear or anxiety to rule her actions.

Elsa tore her narrowed gaze from Tyr and turned to her sister. "Anna, are you okay?"

Struggling to follow her sister's example and remain calm, Anna lifted a shoulder. "I've been better." She bit her lip, feeling the need to tell her sister she was sorry for this whole situation, acutely aware that they wouldn't be here if it wasn't for her blind trust, her insatiable optimism. "Elsa—"

Her sister's attention snapped away, cutting Anna off as effectively as if she had covered her mouth. The obvious dismissal of her apology, or explanation, left her feeling stung.

"Release my sister and I will allow you and your men safe passage back north." Elsa commanded, her gaze locked onto Tyr's.

He cocked his head. "I'm afraid we can't do that. Returning to our people without assistance would be as good as sentencing them to death."

"Even if I gave you a battalion of my own men, there is no way to ensure you would win." She gestured toward Anna. "You kidnapped their princess and threatened their queen. Do you really think my men would fight for you, would help you win, regardless of their orders? Even _you_ have to be smarter than that."

The man tipped his head. "I'm not as naive as my brother. I'm well aware we are past that point. Which is why I'm not asking for a battalion of your men, or any number of soldiers."

Elsa narrowed her gaze, her clenched knuckles whitening. "Then what is it you are hoping to gain from this?"

"The Vindarr are a formidable force, but so are our own men. The smallest advantage would turn the tides in our favor. An advantage such as the ability to command ice and snow." A slow grin spread across his face. "Or to create a blizzard on command."

It clicked in Anna's mind then what he was asking, seemingly quicker than it clicked in Elsa's. She could see the realization on Alarik's face and in his posture as he took a step forward, positioning himself close enough to step between Tyr and Elsa if need be. There was no question when her sister realized what Tyr was implying; the temperature of the room plummeted with shocking swiftness.

"I will not be used as a weapon in someone else's war!" she exclaimed. The room continued to grow colder, until their breath clouded in front of their faces.

"Today you will be, Your Majesty." The older man narrowed his gaze. "If you want your sister to live."

"I'd be very cautious of my next move if I were you, Chief." Elsa's fingers tightened further. "If you force me to use my power to defend myself and my sister, there will be no going back."

Despite the threat of her own, Anna could see the glimmer of panic just below her sister's boiling surface. She knew this single moment encompassed the two things Elsa feared most: something awful happening to Anna, and her magic being used to hurt someone.

Tyr smirked, but Anna caught the waver in his cocky posture as his shoulder dropped, just a fraction, a crack in his armor. "You should save that fury for the battlefield, Your Majesty. You'll need it."

Elsa's gaze was burning. "You have not yet seen my fury. But if any harm comes to my sister, I promise you, it will be the last thing you and your men ever see of this earth."

"Well, let's hope it doesn't come to that then," he replied. "For everyone's sake." He talked a big game, but Anna watched as the crack in Tyr's armor split a fraction more. He folded his arms over his chest, audibly exhaling through his nose. "I grow weary of this. If you want your sister to return home unharmed, you will do as you're told."

Elsa bristled. The temperature of the room dropped further, turning the air painfully cold. Anna shivered in the guard's hold.

"You can't honestly expect me to—"

Tyr turned to the man with the crossbow and gave him a curt nod. "Shoot him," he said simply.

Anna's eyes widened as the guard lifted his weapon and aimed it at Alarik.

It happened quickly.

"No!" Elsa shouted, throwing out a hand as the bolt left the crossbow. Whether due to the lingering effects of her head injury or simply the stress of the situation, the stream of ice that shot forth merely knocked the bolt off-course. Instead of piercing his chest, and likely his heart, the sharp tip grazed Alarik's side. He toppled backward with a yelp of surprise and pain.

And then all hell broke loose.


	9. Chapter 9

"If you want your sister to return home unharmed, you will do as you're told."

Elsa bristled, her face flushing with anger at the man's audacity. "You can't honestly expect me to—"

Tyr turned to the man with the crossbow and gave him a curt nod. "Shoot him," he said simply.

"No!" Elsa shouted. She threw out a hand as the bolt left the crossbow, intending to freeze it midair. A stream of ice shot forth, but her aim was off, just a fraction to high. The ice skimmed just above it, knocking the bolt off-target. Instead of piercing his chest, and likely his heart, the sharp tip grazed Alarik's side. He toppled backward with a yelp of surprise and pain.

The blast of ice had taken the others in the room by surprise, and Elsa used the momentary lapse in the Northmen's attention to let loose the magic she'd been fighting to restraint since she entered the longhouse. She sent an icy blast toward the guard aiming his crossbow at Anna, meaning to knock the weapon from his hand. A stake of ice speared the man's wrist, and the crossbow dropped to the floor as he howled in pain.

That was the only warning Elsa could give her sister before she allowed thick ice to explode across the floor with enough force to knock anyone standing to ground.

As Elsa watched, Anna hit the floor and rolled, slamming her foot into the second guard's face as she scrambled to find her feet. She leapt onto the table between them and Elsa latched onto Anna's arm, pulling her roughly to her side of the room. She didn't have any way to cut her sister's bindings and they didn't have the time to try and unknot them; they would have to make do without the use of Anna's hands.

"Get Alarik out of here," Elsa said, shoving her sister toward the wounded man.

Anna hesitated, her eyes wide and frightened. "I'm not leaving you here."

Elsa sent another icy blast through the room, using the force of the ice to push one of the heavy tables into the two guards who had been holding Anna and pinning them under its weight. "I'll be right behind you, Anna! Go!" She made a fist and dropped the temperature of the longhouse to inhospitable levels. Thick snowflakes whirled throughout the room, obscuring the Northmen's vision.

She could hear her sister's footsteps shuffling behind her as Anna helped Alarik to his feet and to the door. Three of the four guards on the opposite side of the room had made it to their feet as well, and two were aiming loaded crossbows. The third moved around the outskirts of the room, a spear in his hand. Elsa stepped forward and positioned herself between her sister and Alarik, and the Northmen. Concentrating on the ice pooled beneath the table in front of them, she threw her hand out and jerked it up quickly. Sharp, frozen spikes shot up, destroying the table in an explosion of ice and wood.

She then created a wall of ice in front of the guard with the spear, shoving him back against the wall and pinning him there. Elsa kept her gaze on the scene in front of her, and as she heard Anna and Alarik exit the longhouse behind her, she stepped back toward the door. She was searching the space for the remaining Northman when something slammed into her and sent her crashing to the ground. She gasped for breath as the wind was knocked out of her, and hands grabbed her by the shoulder, flipping her onto her back. Before she could react, they twisted in the collar of her dress, lifting her off the floor and mercilessly slamming her back. Distantly, she was aware of the sound of her own head cracking against the sheet of ice beneath her, as stars exploded across her vision.

Elsa's fingers skipped across the icy floor as, dazed, she searched for some sort of purchase. She clumsily grabbed at one of the arms twisted in her collar and squeezed, but it wasn't enough. Her ears were ringing, her head was buzzing, and she couldn't manage a firm enough grip on her magic to freeze the man, couldn't gather enough strength to knock him away.

 _Tyr_ , she realized through spotty, dimming vision. He released her tunic and twisting his arm to grab hold of her wrist, shoving a knee into her chest. Elsa wheezed painfully as her breathing was suddenly restricted. The heel of her boots dug into the ice, trying gain enough leverage to dislodge him. The sharp ache cut a swath through the fog clouding her brain, and she attempted to wrench her hand out of his, but Tyr's hold was relentless. Just as she managed to work her other hand free, he fished for something out of her eyeline.

Something closed around Elsa's right wrist as she wrapped her free hand around his arm, prepared to knock him back with the strongest blast of ice she could muster. As she released the magic, a molten fiery pain erupted in her wrist and ripped down the length of her arm. She seized up beneath him, her fingers tightened around his arm. Barbs of ice shot out, tearing through his arm.

Tyr shouted and stumbled back, cradling the blooded limb to his chest as Elsa looked on in horror, her stomach churning. She tore her gaze away from the mess she'd made of his arm and scrambled to her feet, moving toward the door. She stopped on the threshold only long enough to throw a blast of ice down the middle of the room, extinguishing the fire and plunging the room into near darkness. She slammed the door shut behind her, stumbling back a few feet.

Elsa dipped into her magic and released a final stream of ice at the building. Heat shot down her right arm and she bit back a scream. She curled the limb close to her body and shot the ice form her left hand instead, refusing to let go until several inches of solid ice covered the door and windows of the building. If the biting cold didn't slow them down, the ice would.

Once the building was as good as sealed in a tomb of ice, Elsa let her arm fall to the side. Almost immediately, the shooting pain in her right arm dulled to a distant throb. She stood numbly for an unknown length of time, staring at the building as her head swam and her arm ached mutedly, until a hand gripped her shoulder. All of a sudden, her sister was in front of her, Anna's mouth moving a mile a minute, but Elsa couldn't make out anything she was saying.

"What?" she asked, her own voice sounding warbled and distant.

"Elsa?" Anna's voice cut through the sound of her pulse thrumming in her ears. "Are you okay?"

She tried to answer, but she was having difficulty getting enough air, and she couldn't make a squawk of sound. Blackness flooded Elsa's field of vision, and she neither felt nor saw the ground as it rushed up to meet her.

* * *

Alarik heard the sharp _thwang_ of a bolt being shot, a curious crackling of ice, and then his side lit up with fire and he was knocked to the ground. The impact left him breathless and he curled to the side, pressing a hand against the wound. Just as the initial burst of pain was ebbing to a manageable throb, a sudden gust of freezing wind and ice sent him back to the floor. He lay stunned, struggling to find his breath amidst the freezing air that left his lungs seizing and listening to his own pulse thrumming in his ears. He blinked lethargically, knowing he had likely only laid there a few seconds, but it felt much longer.

Hands gripped his arm and hauled him mostly to his feet. Alarik hunched over the fire in his side as he was dragged across the frozen floor and out the door. Once outside, the warm air of an autumn evening hit his lungs and he greedily sucked in a lungful. With a clearer head and away from the bitter cold, he straightened the rest of the way, hand pressed against his side. Everything that had just transpired came rushing back like a gut punch, and he spun to the person at his side, who had dragged from the house. She looked terrified and disheveled, her hair mussed and hands still bound with rope.

"Princess Anna." Alarik searched the area behind her, but there was no one else outside with them. He pulled a dagger from his boot and gripped the rope binding her wrists, swiftly cutting through it. "Where's the Queen?" he asked, fearing he already knew the answer.

Anna looked over her shoulder, rubbing at her freed wrist. "She - she was right behind me." Looking almost dazed, she turned and stepped toward the door.

A glint of metal caught Alarik's eye and he reached out to grab the Princess' arm, yanking her back toward him just as a cross bolt arrow missed her by inches.

Ignoring the pain in his side, Alarik drew his sword and closed the distance between himself and the Northman. As he approached, the man dropped the crossbow and pulled out his own sword. Metal clanged as their swords clashed, echoing throughout the clearing. The Northman met him hit for hit, and Alarik barely managed to shift out of the way of a strike that would have skewered his already injured side. When his opponent left himself open and Alarik moved quickly to take advantage, sinking his sword into the man's gut, thrusting upward. He stepped back and jerked the sword free, stepping to the side as the man fell to the ground.

Alarik exhaled shakily, wincing as the pain in his side flared. He pushed it down, knowing there were much larger concerns at hand. He turned toward the entrance of the longhouse, shoulders sagging and relief flooding through him as he saw the Queen standing just outside the door. His eyes went wide as she coated the cabin in thick ice. If he had any doubts about the Queen's supposed ice powers, they were gone now.

He cleaned the blood from his blade and returned it to its sheath as he joined Elsa and Anna. From a distance the Queen had looked no worse for wear but now that he was closer, Alarik could see that her breath was coming in sharp pants, and her eyes looked glassy, her gaze distant.

Elsa swayed slightly, a frown pulling at the corners of her mouth. "Wha . . ." she said breathlessly, slurring heavily.

"Elsa." Anna stepped closer and gripped her sister's hands tightly. "Are you okay?"

Elsa opened her mouth to answer but nothing came out. A confused look crossed her face, and then her eyes rolled up and her knees buckled.

Alarik jumped, barely managing to catch her as she went down. "Shit," he breathed, gently lowering her to the ground while keeping her head cradled against his arm.

"Elsa?" Anna dropped to the ground with them, one of her sister's pale hands still clasped tightly in her own. She leaned forward, cupping Elsa's face with her free hand. "Elsa," she called again, a hint of desperation creeping into her voice as she tried to wake the woman up.

Alarik slipped his fingers against her neck and felt for a pulse. It was there and strong, but so fast it was practically humming beneath his fingers, and Elsa's breath continued to come in short, shallow rasps. Considering what just happened, it wasn't surprising and likely the excitement had just been too much, causing her to pass out. He couldn't fault her; he'd seen bigger, tougher men go down over less. He looked from the unconscious Queen to the frozen longhouse behind them. "How long until that ice melts?"

Anna tore her wide gaze from Elsa and turned to the cabin. "I don't know. Her ice doesn't always melt. I mean, some of it does. Olaf almost did, but the ice on the castle doesn't, and the ice palace, but that's on the North Mountain and—"

"Your Highness," Alarik interrupted the nervous ramble of the Princess. He stared a moment, making sure he had her attention. "We need to get out of here before they break through. Our horses are around the other side of the cabin."

Anna didn't move, her gaze lingering on her sister.

"She'll be okay," Alarik assured her, biting back a wince as pain flared in his side. "But we can't stay here."

The Princess bit down on her lip then jerked her head in a tight nod. "Right," she said, pushing to her feet.

Alarik readjusted his hold on the Queen, sliding one arm under her knees and adjusting the other behind her shoulders. He started to stand, a grunt of pain escaping the tight line of his lips before he could stop it.

"You're injured!" Anna exclaimed.

"It's fine." He gritted his teeth, straightening his knees.

Anna cast a look back at the ice coating the longhouse then back to Alarik. "Let me see it."

"It's fine," he repeated.

"Elsa says that all the time and I never believe her either."

"We don't have time for this."

Anna huffed. "Not if you keep arguing. Alarik, if you pass out from blood loss or something, how are you going to help us?"

Alarik's shoulders slumped and he sighed, knowing she was right. Carefully, he laid Elsa back on the ground and turned to Anna, lifting the hem of his shirt to expose the spot where the bolt had caught him. There was a two-inch-long furrow dug into his side, that thankfully felt much worse than it looked. The wound wasn't too deep but was still bleeding sluggishly.

"Give me your dagger," Anna commanded, holding out her hand.

Alarik hesitated before handing it over to her. Anna looked down at the thick grey material of her own skirt then to the thinner fabric of the tail on her sister's dress. "Sorry, Elsa."

Alarik doubted she was.

She cut a long strip of material from Elsa's dress, leaving the hem at knee-length. Anna then helped Alarik wrap the material around his waist, securing it with a knot.

Once the makeshift bandage was in place, he lifted the Queen once more in his arms, biting down a hiss of pain that faded once he was standing with Elsa settled in his arms. He motioned for Anna to follow and walked quickly around the side of the house, only to have his heart drop when he found the area empty. "Shit."

Behind him, Anna gasped. "Now what?"

There was no sign of where the horses may have gone, no sound in the area but for their combined anxious breathing. Alarik cursed under his breath, offering the forest surrounding the longhouse one last searching glance. "Sioaskard Fortress is only a few miles north," he told her. "It will take us less time to get there than Valle. We can get help there."

Anna looked around nervously. "Through the forest?"

He nodded. "If we take the road, we have a higher chance of getting caught. I've hunted in these woods before, it's been a while, but Sioaskard shouldn't be that hard to find once we get closer." He looked over his shoulder at the frozen longhouse. There hadn't been any sounds from inside since Elsa emerged, but he knew they had already wasted far too much time. He turned to the Princess with an appraising gaze. "Ready?"

She looked tired and scared, staring at her limp sister and rubbing absently at her rope-burned wrist. Finally, Anna raised her gaze to his and nodded, following closely as Alarik headed into woods.

* * *

It was a mild autumn day, but Anna couldn't shake the chill that had taken hold. She wrapped her arms tightly around her middle as she trudged through the forest next to Alarik, her gaze fixed on the terrain in front of her.

"How you doing?"

Anna dragged her gaze up to Alarik. He looked so sincerely concerned for her wellbeing, she couldn't look him in the eye, instead shifting her attention to her still sister's face. Guilt tightened in her chest and she swallowed. "I should be the one asking you that. You're the one who's injured. You're the one who's carrying my unconscious sister."

Alarik pressed his lips into a thin line and huffed a rough breath through his nostrils. For a long while, the only sound was the natural chatter and rustling of the surrounding woods and the gurgle of a nearby stream. "Look," he finally said, "I really only have a vague idea of what is going on here, but you have to know that none of it is your fault."

Anna snorted. "I wish." She hugged herself tighter, thinking back on the argument she had with her sister – had it really only just been that morning? "This is all my fault," she said. "Once again, Elsa said no, and I didn't listen. Now we're lost in the woods and you're both hurt."

"It's clear that the Sirma leader wanted Elsa. If they hadn't gone through you, they would have found some other way to get to her. You shouldn't beat yourself up over this." Alarik readjusted his grip on Elsa's slim frame, shifting her position in his arms. "Besides," he continued when Anna offered no response, "we're okay. A little scuffed up, but otherwise fine."

Anna couldn't help but roll her eyes, "There's that word again. Fine," she spat with annoyance, turning on the ball of her foot and throwing her arms wide as she faced Alarik. "I really don't think either of you actually know what that—" The fading sunlight glinted harshly off something on the path behind him, and she abruptly stopped speaking.

"What?" the man asked quizzically. He turned to follow Anna's gaze. "Is that . . ."

Anna walked past him and dropped to one knee in the dirt, in front of a thin layer of frost, a three-foot-wide path that coated the ground like ice had been swept along the trail with a brush. She frowned as she stood, her gaze following the path of frost until it disappeared in the distance, mapping the way they'd been walking for the last hour. "It's frost."

Alarik looked down at Elsa in surprise, then back to the trail. "Is it melting?"

Anna shook her head. She raised a hand and ghosted it over her sister's pale, unmoving form. "I don't think so."

"Shit."

Anna couldn't agree more. Her heart tripped wildly against her ribcage. "Something's wrong."

Alarik barked an unamused laugh. "There are a lot of things wrong right now. That trail will lead the Northmen right to us."

"No," Anna said, shaking her head. "I mean, there's something wrong with Elsa. She wouldn't be creating it if there wasn't." She struggled to keep the panic out of her voice, but her heart continued to thump painfully in her chest. Her sister had spent the last four months practicing and maintaining a tight control over her magic. She had done well, too; the only slipups that occurred were during high-stress moments. If her control was slipping now . . .

"Fantastic." Alarik looked back the way they'd come and blew out a slow breath. "Okay. One problem at a time. Is there any way to get rid of that ice?"

Anna wrung her hands together and reined in her thoughts, though she couldn't do the same for her anxiety. "If we can wake her up, Elsa should be able to dismiss it." At least, she hoped so.

A rumble of thunder rolled overhead. Alarik squinted up at the sky and sighed. "Oh, good." He turned to Anna. "Let's find a place to stop for a few minutes, somewhere we're less likely to be ambushed."

Anna nodded and followed him through the forest. When they came upon a stream, they followed the burbling water before it led them to the short, rocky cliff face. It seemed a secluded enough spot, with a narrow shelf of rock a few feet above their heads that would provide some shelter in case the rain started.

Alarik gingerly knelt, a wince crossing his face as he carefully placed Elsa on the ground. He leaned her shoulders against a flat bit of the rock, and frost immediately spread out from her sprawled limbs. "I'll keep watch," he said as he stood. He moved back to the stream; one hand wrapped around the pummel of his sword.

Finally, alone with her sister, Anna knelt and reached out to grab Elsa's left hand, squeezed it gently. The fear she'd been feeling for her sister increased as she saw that not only was Elsa still breathing in shallow pants, but her face was shockingly pale. "Elsa." Anna lightly tapped the side of her sister's face. "Elsa," she tried again, louder.

When there was no response, fear squeezed her chest like a vice. Feeling desperate, Anna shook Elsa's shoulder and finally got a soft groan from her sister. Elsa's eyelids fluttered, like she was struggling to open them.

Encouraged, Anna moved her hand from Elsa's shoulder to the back of her neck. "Hey, Elsa, look at me." She waited for her sister's groggy gaze to land on her. Anna swallowed the panic that was bubbling up and struggled to smile. She knew Elsa shouldn't be having this much trouble waking up. Something was wrong. _One problem at a time,_ she told herself, they had to get rid of the trail of frost, before they were found by Tyr and his men.

She took her sister's left hand. "Elsa, I know you're tired, and probably a little confused, but I need you to listen to me, okay?" Anna pressed Elsa's hand against the icy ground. "You left a trail of ice when we left the longhouse, and I need you to melt it. Can you do that?"


	10. Chapter 10

Elsa returned to consciousness in stages, in brief pockets of semi-awareness. The first time, she had a vague, weightless sense of being carried, and could hear someone talking close by. She couldn't place the voice of the speaker or make out any of the words they were saying, but they sounded worried. Perhaps even scared. She had no idea what they were talking about, though, and before she could gather enough energy to even try to figure it out, the warmth of inky blackness dragged her back down, and the voice faded away.

The next time, she woke with more urgency, with a hand gripping hers and another on her shoulder, shaking her and encouraging her to wake. Elsa tried to open her eyes but it felt as though they had been glued together. A muffled groan rolled past her lips as she tried once more to work them open, this time succeeding. Her vision was blurry and her eyelids felt weighed down. She blinked slowly, struggling to bring the world around her into focus. The hand had moved to the back of her neck, and there was a blurry shape of a person sitting in front of her, a voice talking to her. She had no idea why she felt so weak, so drained. She frowned, trying to remember what had happened while at the same time fighting the desire to close her eyes and return to the bliss of sleep. But the voice was insistent, like what the speaker was saying was important and she should pay attention. As Elsa struggled to focus, their words finally cut through the fog.

"Elsa, I know you're tired, and probably a little confused, but I need you to listen to me, okay?"

Anna's voice. Anna's hand, moving her own and pressing it against the unnaturally cold, solid ground.

"You left a trail of ice when we left the longhouse, and I need you to melt it. Can you do that?"

 _Melt ice?_ Of course, she could do that. That was easy. Elsa's frown deepened, not understanding why it was so important, but if Anna needed her to do it then she would. She pressed her free hand against the rough rock at her back and leaned forward. She could feel the ice under her hand, the frosted trail she had created while unconscious. She focused the best she could and followed the frozen path back to its starting point, then commanded the ice to melt. It responded accordingly, but pain immediately flared in Elsa's right wrist and she nearly lost her concentration. The bite of pain worked to clear away some of the cobwebs in her head, and she dug her teeth into her bottom lip and doubled down, refusing to let up until the entire trail of ice had melted away, even as the stinging burn in her arm increased.

Elsa sagged against the rock as the pain in her arm died down. She felt tired and achy all over, like she was just getting over a serious illness. She laid her head back and allowed her eyes to fall closed. The fog in her mind continued to slowly clear despite the persistent exhaustion dragging at her, and the events of the day trickled back like drips from a leaky faucet. She remembered the argument in the drawing room, the Sirma, the Longhouse, Tyr—

Her eyes shot open. "Anna." Relief flooded through Elsa as her gaze fell on her younger sister. Anna looked worn, tired, and grimy, but unharmed.

Anna met her gaze with a weary but genuine smile, then looked down. As worry and confusion crossed her face, Elsa realized her sister was holding her right hand, and that Anna's own hand was trembling. "Elsa, what is this?"

She lifted their entwined hands so that Elsa could see for herself there was a piece of silverish metal wrapped around her right wrist. The band was tarnished and simple looking but held a deep blue stone in the center. On the stone was an intricate looking silver triangle, each tip with a smaller triangle behind it and three more interlocking triangles at its center. Looping knot work surrounded the outside in a circle, and the stone appeared to be faintly glowing.

"I don't..." She remembered the scuffle with Tyr, something snapping around her wrist and the sudden blinding pain that had followed. She remembered losing control of her magic, the feeling of ice tearing through the sinew and muscle of Tyr's arm. She remembered a flash of visible bone, of blood, of his pained scream. "Oh god," Elsa ripped her hand from her sister's grasp and covered her mouth as her stomach cramped painfully.

That was all the warning she could give Anna before she doubled over to the side, and what food she had eaten that day quickly became part of the landscape. It didn't take long for her to empty her stomach, leaving her gagging on the acidic taste left behind, she was aware of her sister's hand on her back, rubbing small circles while keeping her hair safe from the mess. They stayed that way for a long moment until Elsa was sure her stomach was done rebelling, then she turned gingerly to lean against the rock face and pulled her knees up. She kept one arm wrapped around her stomach, as if that would keep it settled, while propping an elbow on her knees and laying her forehead against her open palm.

The Sirma wanted to use her, as some kind of weapon, to win their war. She couldn't even stomach the memory of what little damage she'd managed to cause in the scuffle. It was ironic and a little funny, and Elsa would have laughed if she had anywhere near the energy for it.

Anna laid a tentative hand on her arm and squeezed softly. "Elsa?"

"I don't know," she said softly, in answer to her sister's earlier question. She dropped her right arm from her head and turned her wrist to inspect the cuff. "Tyr - we fought. He had me pinned and got this on my wrist right, before I—" Elsa swallowed thickly, trying not think again about what she'd done to his arm.

"But why?" Anna's hand ghosted over the cuff, not quite touching it. "What is it for?"

"Whatever it is, I doubt it's anything good."

Elsa looked up to find Alarik standing over them. He knelt and wrapped his cool fingers around Elsa's, gently rotating her wrist to study the cuff for himself. He closed the fingers of his other hand around the softly glowing gem and tugged. A painful jolt ran along her arm and she yelped, jerking her hand out of his. She leveled a glare at him, even though she knew he hadn't meant to cause her pain.

Alarik held his hands up. "Sorry." He leaned in and squinted, but didn't touch the stone or band again. "It doesn't seem to have any sort of clasp or lock on it. Almost like it was created in one piece as it was put there."

"Can you freeze it off?" Anna asked, her voice a little loud in the tight space, her eyes wide with renewed worry.

Alarik looked to her. Elsa cocked her head.

Anna waved a hand. "I mean, metal gets brittle when exposed to below freezing temperatures, right?"

Alarik raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting. "I didn't take you for a metallurgist."

Anna blinked. "I—don't know what that means." She shook her head, brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Elsa couldn't help but notice the faint tremor in her sister's hand, the anxiety Anna was struggling, and failing, to conceal. "Kristoff was teaching me a little about ice harvesting, and he said that it's a problem they have to watch out for when the temperature drops too low."

Elsa chewed on her bottom lip and looked down at the cuff, remembering with painful clarity the excruciating burn when she used her powers at the longhouse, and just moments earlier when she melted the ice trail she'd left. "I'm not sure."

"It's worth a try thought, right?" Anna pressed, wringing her hands.

Alarik shook his head, looking pensive. "I don't know. It's clearly got some sort of anti-tampering...characteristics to it. Maybe we should wait until we have a better idea of what it's doing before we just start trying things."

Elsa inspected the glowing stone, the symbols etched into its surface. The markings looked familiar, but she couldn't recall where she might have seen them before. "It's doing something to my magic," she told the others.

"It's doing more than that."

Anna's voice pulled at her drifting attention. Her sister's tone was full of worry, and it sounded like she was barely holding it together.

"Elsa, it's doing something to _you._ "

Elsa frowned and jerked her chin, not quite understanding what her sister meant.

Anna roughly grabbed her left wrist, her fingers pressing into Elsa's skin. "Your pulse is racing despite the fact you haven't even been standing in the last hour. You're pale, and—Elsa, you're warm, like really warm," Her voice raised in volume and pitch as she spoke, until she sounded near hysterics.

Elsa covered her sister's hand with her free one. "It's okay, breathe, Anna." She took a deep breath of her own, working to rein in her own worries and fears and pushing the growing exhaustion to the side. She needed to be calm and in control; she was an older sister and a Queen, and she didn't have the luxury to be anything else. She rolled her lips. "If we don't find the answer here, maybe the trolls will have one for us." She squeezed her sister's hand. "We'll figure this out."

Anna nodded and sagged, like Elsa's words had taken away some of her anxious tension. "Right," she said. "Okay."

Elsa tore her gaze away and looked around for the first time since waking, taking in the rapidly fading sunlight and the thick woods surrounding them. She frowned. "Where is here?"

* * *

Dusk fell over the forest as the three moved quietly through the thick underbrush, and with it, a thunderstorm. While lightning flashed and thunder boomed nearby, the rainfall was light, barely more than a drizzle, but enough to make the uncomfortable trek even more miserable. Between the intermittent lightning and the full moon peeking from behind the cloud cover, there was just enough light to allow them to see the way ahead as they picked a path through the woods, though they still needed to tread carefully.

Sioaskard was relatively close, but it would still take them several hours to reach the fortress. Before setting off from where they had paused at the side of the stream, there was a short debate over whether they should bunker down for the night and wait until morning, due to how dark woods became at night and the fact that passing through was a dangerous feat for even a well-prepared group. Their group was anything but well-prepared right now. In the end, Elsa made the call to continue through the night, as she had had enough sitting around, and they could not afford to waste any time.

Following the cliffside, they walked single-file, Alarik in the front to clear the path and Anna taking up the rear. With Elsa between them, Anna could keep an eye on her older sister who, despite her tightlipped reassurance, seemed to be having increasing difficulty with her magic.

"Elsa," she whispered, laying her hand on her sister's shoulder as frost once more begin to spread out across the ground.

Elsa startled and looked down with a heavy exhale. It had been a few hours since they escaped the longhouse and every fifteen minutes, almost like clockwork, Anna watched as her sister's posture start to sag and her steps slowed, then ice would start to leak out across the muddy path. It had almost become routine. Elsa bit her lip and extended her left hand toward the ground. The stone inlaid on the cuff glowed brightly as the frost slowly vanished.

Anna's worry increased each time this played out, as each necessary use of her magic seemed to sap more of Elsa's strength. She looked past her sister's hunched frame to where Alarik stood waiting. They both knew the best thing to do at this point was to reach the fort as safety and as quickly as they could. After that, they could figure out what to do next.

Silence fell over the area as the group pressed on, but for the sounds of the forest around them. They had only been walking for ten minutes before Elsa stumbled and fell to the ground with a harsh "shit." As she struck the dirt, ice burst across the forest floor.

Anna's eyes widened. She didn't think she had ever heard her sister curse before. By the time she recovered and reached her sister's side, Elsa had pulled herself up onto her knees and was bracing her herself on her palms, her head hanging limp.

"Elsa?" Anna knelt next to her as Alarik joined on her other side.

"I'm fine," her sister growled breathlessly.

"Sure." Over Elsa's bowed head, Anna locked gazes with Alarik, who was obviously just as worried as she was. Anna laid her hand on her sister's shoulder, feeling the muscles tremble beneath her palm. "Maybe we should stop for a bit?"

Alarik squinted into the dark woods that stretched in front of them. "There should be a rock shelter along the cliff here. We can bunker down there for a few hours. Regroup. If we're lucky, the Northmen will have assumed we headed back toward Valle and will be searching for us to the south."

Elsa shook her head. "No. I'm fine, really. We should keep going."

Anna opened her mouth to protest but slammed it back shut as heat rose in her cheeks. She really didn't want to argue – not here, at least – but she felt an overwhelming desire to smack the stubbornness out of her older sister. God forbid the woman admit to being human, just once. "Well, I'm tired," Anna declared while trying to keep her voice down. "And cold, and wet. I got up at an ungodly hour this morning, and it's been a long day, and I could use a few hours' rest before we continue on."

Elsa looked at her. Despite the fact they both knew it was nothing more than a thin excuse to force her to take a break, guilt fell across her face.

"Good," Alarik said, before Elsa had a chance to offer her opinion. "I'll scout ahead, see if I can find anything. Will you be okay here?" He asked, his focus on Anna alone.

Anna nodded, sagging in relief. Alarik disappeared from view, the night quickly swallowing his form. The sisters sat in silence, and after a moment Anna realized Elsa hadn't moved at all. She turned to her sister and saw Elsa's head hanging low, her breaths coming in short puffs. She was clearly in some sort of physical distress, not to mention whatever mental toll it was taking to fight for control of her magic.

Guilt rose in Anna's chest, squeezing her heart. They wouldn't even be in this situation if it wasn't for her stubborn need to believe the best in people, her desire to help them. "Elsa," she started in a small voice.

Elsa shook her head. "Anna, it's okay," she replied, like she already knew what Anna wanted to say.

"No, it's not." Anna shifted her position, keeping a hand on Elsa's shoulder as she slid around to see her sister's face better. "This is my fault. I should have listened to you, and now you're hurt and Alarik is hurt and—"

"Anna." Elsa interrupted her ramble. She pulled herself upright and placed an oddly warm hand against the side of Anna's face. "Don't ever change."

"What?" She wasn't making any sense. Anna frowned, worry over Elsa's condition twisting her chest.

"I mean it," Elsa insisted. "Should you have listened to me? Yes. believe it or not, I do know what I'm doing sometimes, but . . ." A frown pulled at her lips as her gaze drifted, like she forgot what she was saying. For a long moment, raindrops striking the leaves overhead was the only sound to break the silence, before Elsa seemed to find the words that she was looking for. "Anna, this isn't your fault."

"How can you say that?"

"Because I am older and wiser and know everything."

The unexpected reply caused Anna to snort.

Elsa squeezed the side of her neck. "I know it's not your fault, because it's clear that the Sirma, that Tyr, never wanted assistance from Arendelle, this—" Elsa held up her right hand and displayed the faintly glowing cuff, "—this isn't something you bring with you while asking for help. They came prepared, with a plan to force my hand. If they hadn't gone through you, they would have found another way. Taking you hostage was just the shortest line between two points."

Anna scrunched up her face. The explanation made sense, but still left her feeling like nothing more than a tool, a means to an end. Maybe to Erik, that's all she had been. "I'm not sure how I feel about that."

"I'm just glad you're okay." Elsa shook her head, drops of rain falling from her hair. "I was so scared that they were going to hurt you. Anna, I can't lose you."

Anna leaned forward, pulling her older sister into a fierce hug. "I can't lose you, either. I don't know what I'd do if—"

Elsa pulled back just enough to reach up and brush a thumb against Anna's cheek. Anna wasn't sure whether it was rainwater or tears her sister wiped away.

"Hey, it's okay. And I meant what I said." Elsa lifted her other hand, cradling Anna's face. She lowered her chin and met Anna's gaze. "Don't ever change. Don't let what the Sirma did today ruin that stubborn optimism. You have no idea how much I need it."

Anna smiled gratefully and wrapped an arm around her sister's shoulders. Elsa tensed at the contact but quickly relaxed, laying her head on Anna's shoulder. They sat like that in the rain and mud for an unknown amount of time before Anna heard movement in the forest in front of them, from the direction Alarik had disappeared.

Anna tensed, arm tightening around Elsa. She was prepared to protect her sister if the need arose. As the sound drew nearer, she poised to jump to her feet, only to have relief flood through her as Alarik emerged from the darkness, leaving her lightheaded.

He knelt in front of the sisters. "There's a shallow cave not far up," he said, keeping his voice low. "The entrance is hidden by thick vegetation. I think it would be safe to bunker down in there for a bit." He pressed a hand against his side, a wince flashing across his face.

Anna nodded and shifted to stand when Elsa's head lolled forward, and she realized the older woman had fallen asleep. "Elsa," she said softly, raising a hand to gently jostle her sister and encourage her to wake.

Alarik held up a hand. "Don't." He moved to Elsa's opposite side. "I've got her." Carefully, he lifted the slumbering Queen into his arms and stood even more gingerly. "The cave isn't far. No need to wake her."

Anna nodded and rose. She followed closely behind Alarik as he led the way through the darkness, thinking back on her conversation with Elsa. She still couldn't help feeling bad about how things had played out but was relieved her sister was no longer angry with her, nor did she blame her. Before long, Alarik stopped in front of a section of cliffside obscured by thick bushes and hanging vines. He ensured Elsa's head was secure and then ducked, disappearing between the vegetation.

Anna's eyes widened in surprise. Even standing right in front of it, she couldn't see a discernible inlet behind the plants. She followed after Alarik and, once her eyes adjusted, found exactly what he had described. A shallow cave, low enough that she had to stoop, but deep enough that Alarik would be able to stretch out if he chose to. "How did you find this place?"

Alarik smiled as he knelt. "With well-honed hunting skills and keen observation."

Anna lifted an eyebrow.

He settled Elsa carefully onto the ground. "Or I may have tripped on a root and tried to catch myself on the rock face only to find it missing. Really, it's hard to say which."

Anna snorted softly. "Uh-huh." She lowered herself into a sit next to her sister, lifting Elsa's shoulders so that her head rested on Anna's legs. She brushed the wet bangs from Elsa's face, her hand lingering a moment on her sister's forehead. Elsa had always been cool to the touch, something Anna attributed to her ice magic, but now she felt warm, almost feverishly so. Anna released a shaky breath, running her fingers over the wet platinum locks. Now that she was sitting down, now that she was still and could catch her breath and rein in her racing thoughts, she felt overwhelmed by the day's events, by everything that had happened and the danger they were technically still in. Tears prickled at her eyes and she struggled to hold them back, wanting to be strong.

"You know," Alarik said, a hand pressed to his side as he sat across from her, drawing Anna out of her spiraling thoughts. "You're kind of a legend among the military."

Anna's head snapped up. "What?"

"For what you did during the Queen's Winter."

Anna snorted. "You mean for being the cause of it?"

"No." Alarik shook his head. "For going after the Queen without hesitation. For putting yourself between her and a sword. That takes a lot of bravery. You saved Arendelle in more than one way. Not many can lay claim to that."

Anna shifted uncomfortably, causing Elsa to scrunch up her face and groan a small sound of discomfort. She brushed a fingertip down her sister's nose, in the same way their mother used to, until the lines of pain smoothed and Elsa relaxed once more. She felt Alarik's gaze on her and shrugged, suddenly feeling uncomfortable but not knowing what to say. It wasn't the first time she had heard something like that, but that didn't mean she believed it. She knew it wasn't true, but people often remembered only the parts of a story they chose to.

Alarik sighed. "You give yourself too little credit."

Anna chewed on her lip. "It wasn't hard," she said, finally giving voice to thoughts she had been harboring since the event. "It's easy to be brave when you have nothing to lose," she finished softly.

"What are you talking about?" Alarik asked with a frown.

Anna shook her head, keeping her gaze on where her sister lay on her lap, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest with each breath. "Elsa and I had been estranged for thirteen years. Our parents were gone, and I didn't even have any real duty to fulfill, except to be the spare." She lifted a shoulder. "It's easy to risk everything when you have nothing."

A large, warm hand landed on her knee, drawing her gaze upward. "You know that's not true, right?" Alarik said. "That you had nothing. That you weren't anything but the spare."

"It doesn't matter if it was true or not. It's what I believed."

"And now?"

A smile ghosted over Anna's lips. "Now? Now, the gates are open. Now, I have all of Arendelle, and Olaf, and Sven. I have Kristoff. But more than anything, I have my sister back." Her smile faded, gaze drifting to the lightly glowing cuff wrapped around Elsa's wrist. "But now, I don't know how to be brave, because I'm terrified. What if something happens to them? What if I lose them? You're injured, the Sirma are after Elsa, I don't know what that cuff is doing to her—" Anna pressed her lips together as hot tears welled once more. "I don't think I can be brave because now, I have so much to lose."

Alarik pushed himself up from the ground and slid to the opposite side of the cave, sitting down heavily next to Anna, his shoulder pressing against hers. "You know, being brave is not the absence of fear. Being brave means feeling fear, and doubt, and insecurity, and deciding that something else—" he lifted his chin toward Elsa, "—is more important. And remember, you're not alone. You have me, and your sister, and all of Arendelle."

Anna sniffed and turned to him with a watery smile. She felt a bit better, though still scared. "Thank you."

He put his arm around her shoulders and gave her tight squeeze. "You should get some sleep now. I'll keep watch."


	11. Chapter 11

When Elsa woke again, hours later, it was a smoother process than the last time she'd struggled to work her eyes open. She felt an overpowering desire to sleep for a week, possibly two, but felt much better overall than when she passed out on her sister's shoulder.

Sleep was a good healer.

She shifted and noticed that while the ground beneath her back was unnaturally cold, her head was cushioned on something both warm and soft. Elsa peeled her eyes open and discovered her head in her sister's lap. She smiled at the sight of Anna's face, peaceful in sleep, and stilled, not wanting to wake her. She knew her sister needed the rest, even if the severe angle of her tilted head meant she was likely to wake with a heck of a twinge in her neck.

Elsa raised her head from Anna's lap and pushed herself into a seated position. She frowned as she realized the cave floor beneath them was covered in a veil of ice. She raised a hand to dismiss it, then spotted the third member of their party crouched near the entrance of their temporary shelter. Immediately, she noted the tension in Alarik's posture as he stared intensely at something beyond the mouth of the cave.

As she moved closer, he looked over his shoulder and brought a finger to his lips, warning her to stay quiet before gesturing outside. She knelt next to Alarik and, following his gaze, found two Northmen some distance away, picking their way through the woods. She shot him a worried look, and her hand tensed at her side as she considered stopping them with her magic. She didn't, knowing that any appearance of ice would only confirm their presence.

The Northmen drew closer to their hiding spot and Alarik placed a hand on Elsa's arm, jerked his head toward the deeper part of the cave. Elsa went to her sister's side and gently shook Anna with one hand, covering her mouth with the other in the hopes the younger woman would stay quiet when she woke. Anna blinked, working her eyes open, then tensed when she realized someone was leaning over her. She bolted upright only to relax as she focused on Elsa crouching next to her.

Elsa dropped her hand away and put a finger to her lips, then tugged on Anna's arm, encouraging her to move toward the back of the cave. Her sister tensed at her side as the Northmen's footsteps crunched through the underbrush just outside the cave entrance. Alarik positioned himself between them and the cave opening, but Elsa knew there wasn't much they could do in the way of fighting if the Northmen discovered them, not when they were confined within such a small space.

They sat in tense silence, ears tuned to the sound of the men moving outside the cave. A hand suddenly gripped Elsa's arm and she jerked her head toward her sister, who lifted her eyebrows and gestured to the ground. Elsa looked down, dismayed to see the ground covered in a thin layer of frost that was rapidly spreading. She extended a hand and was about to melt the ice, then remembered how brightly the stone on the cuff around her right wrist had glowed the night before each time she got rid of the frost trail she'd made. She glanced at the cave entrance, unsure whether the stone's light would reach the mouth of the cave but worried it could give away their position as much as the frost would, despite the vegetation concealing the entrance. Instead, Elsa closed her eyes and took a deep breath, tried to suppress the growing ice and keep it from spreading to the cave entrance.

It seemed to work, and after another stressful moment, the footsteps moved on from the cave as the Northmen made their way deeper into the woods. Once sure the men had gone, the threesome let out a collective breath.

"That was too close," Alarik said as he moved toward the mouth of the small cave.

Elsa nodded in agreement and melted the ice coating the cave floor, wincing as a familiar sharp pain raced up her arm.

Anna put a gentle hand on her arm. "You okay?"

Elsa placed her hand over her sister's. "I'm fine." She offered Anna an encouraging smile then turned to Alarik. "But you're right, that was too close. Do you think they know we are heading to the fort?"

Alarik lifted a shoulder. "They could have just gotten lucky, or—" His eyes widened as he suddenly stopped talking.

Elsa shifted anxiously. "What is it?"

"When you fell last night, you left behind a rather sizeable circle of frost. I had hoped the rain would melt it, but . . ."

Elsa's heart sank. She doubted the light drizzle from last night would have been enough to melt the frost. In fact, she knew it wouldn't have been. "If they saw it, then they know we came north and that the only place for us to go would be the fort."

"Which means the chances of us making it to the fort without running into them just got really slim," Alarik said.

Elsa bit her lip and debated their options. She looked down at her hands as she came to a conclusion. "We should split up."

Anna's eyes went wide. "What?"

Elsa nodded, confident in her decision. "We split up. I can lead them away while you two get to the fort, and once there you can send soldiers to take care of the Northmen."

"That's got to be the worst idea I have ever heard."

Elsa shot Alarik a glare. He swallowed and cleared his throat, then added, "Your Majesty."

She let her glare linger for a moment longer before continuing. "My magic is fighting whatever it is this cuff is doing," she said, holding up her right arm. "That's why ice keeps leaking out. Trying to hold it back is . . . taking a lot, and having to melt it is . . ." She bit down on her lip and shook her head, not wanting to admit to the strain it was causing. "I'm either going to slow us down or leave a trail leading them right to us. Either way, _I_ increase our chance of being caught. The Northmen aren't after either of you. I can lead them away, give you both a chance to make it to the fort and get help. I'll be fine. I have my magic to protect me."

Anna grabbed her upper arm. "Elsa, you were barely on your feet last night, and we don't know what that cuff is doing to you except that it's messing with your magic." Her sister tilted her head to meet Elsa's eyes. "What happens if suddenly you can't use your magic? Or you pass out? Or one of a hundred other things that might go wrong, and you're alone in the middle of the woods with no one to help you?"

"I'm _fine_ ," Elsa said firmly. "I can handle them."

Alarik shook his head. "No offense, Your Majesty, but in the short time I have known you, you are the least reliable source when it comes to your own wellbeing."

Elsa's mouth dropped open, but nothing came out. She pursed her lips as heat rose in her cheeks. Finally, she said, "I take a lot of offense to that."

Anna snorted and grinned. "That's because it's true."

Elsa whipped her head toward her sister. "Don't help him." She shook off the comment and took a breath, preparing to renew her argument.

"Besides the obvious," Alarik said, before she had the chance, "there is far too much risk in you going alone. Besides, Captain Jogeir entrusted me with your protection, and do you know what he, my father, and the Admiral would do to me if I let you go off on your own? That's not really something I want to contemplate."

"There," Anna smiled smugly. "You've been outvoted."

Elsa wrinkled her nose. "You can't outvote me, Anna," she said, though she knew she'd lost the argument. "I'm the Queen."

"Well, then this just become an autocracy."

Elsa narrowed her eyes at her sister. "They don't vote in an autocracy, either."

"Oh." Anna cocked her head, thoughtfully tapping her chin. "Theocracy?"

"No."

"Capitalism?"

"That's not even a form of government. It's an economic system." Elsa sighed. "Did you not pay attention to anything your tutors taught you?"

"You want to know if I paid attention to the nine-hundred-year-old man trying to teach me different forms of governmental structures?"

Elsa raised her gaze to the cave ceiling and shook her head. "Forget I asked."

Alarik pressed his lips into a thin line, his gaze pensive. "The idea isn't without merit, though."

Anna's jaw dropped open. "Of Elsa going off alone?"

"No, not quite," Alarik said with a shake of his head. He was quiet for a long moment before speaking again. "If you follow the cliffside north it'll lead you directly to the backside of Sioaskard. Then you just follow the wall around to the front of the fort. If you keep a steady pace, you should make it there in no time."

"While you . . ." Anna prompted pointedly.

Elsa felt like she already knew where this was going, and she didn't like the idea one bit.

"I can lead the Northmen away in the opposite direction," he said. "Then circle around back to the fort."

Elsa shook her head firmly. "No. You can't go by yourself. It's too dangerous."

"Oh, so it's okay for you to go alone, but not the armed soldier?" Anna asked, gesturing to the sword strapped to Alarik's side.

She ignored her sister. "How are you going to get them to follow you if it's my magic they want?" she asked Alarik.

He shrugged. "I'll stay far enough ahead of them that they don't realize you're not with me."

Elsa frowned deeply. She knew she had lost the argument for her splitting off from the other two, but she didn't like the thought of Alarik being on his own, either. She wasn't going to convince him that it was a bad idea, but if they stayed together in one group, the chances of the Sirma finding them increased greatly. "Fine," she said finally. She shifted, drew herself up onto her knees and she rubbed her hands together as an idea hatched in her mind. "But if you're going to go forward with this insane plan—"

"Which was your plan," Anna interrupted.

Elsa dropped her hands and turned to her sister. She tilted her head and narrowed her gaze. "Are you quite done?"

Her sister merely shrugged.

"We need to find you some food before I banish you from the kingdom," she grumbled under her breath as she returned her attention to Alarik. She pulled her shoulders back and drew in a deep breath, knowing that what she was about to do was going to hurt, a lot. She also knew it was something that would give them all the best chance of making it through this. "If we are going to do this," Elsa started again in a firm tone, "then we need to make sure it's going to work."

With one more steadying breath, she pooled her magic, biting her lip as the anticipated pain shot through her right arm. Elsa's head was clearer than the last time she used her magic, and she could better feel the flow of her power and what the cuff was doing to it. Or, what it was attempting to do to it. It felt like the magic was being split, like the cuff was attempting to absorb or dissipate the magic as she created it but couldn't do so quickly enough to work properly. She was still able to use her power, but it took twice the energy. She started feeling lightheaded, from the pain increasing in intensity as it moved up her arm and into her chest, and from the amount of energy it was taking her to use her magic. Finally, when she was sure she had gathered all the magic she could, she poured her intention into the ice and released a blast toward the empty space in front of her.

A large pile of snow took form as Elsa slumped forward. She threw a hand against the ground to keep from falling over, breathing heavily. She had expected the pain, but the drain of her was far more than she had anticipated. She closed her eyes and dropped her head, struggling to catch her breath.

As she began to slump to the side, a steady hand braced her. She leaned into her sister, and for a long while, the interior of the cave was quiet, save for the sound of Elsa's panting.

"Elsa?" Anna asked carefully, her fingers tightening around Elsa's arm.

"I, uh, feel like I'm missing something here," Alarik said slowly.

Elsa peeled her eyes open, frowning at the sight of the pile of snow in front of her. She leaned forward on her knees and brushed a hand through the pile. As she did, something within the pile moved, arching up through the snow to meet her hand. The loose covering of snow slipped away, revealing a large, icy snow leopard. With eyes like deep blue ice chips, it blinked lazily at the group.

Elsa rubbed a palm against her forehead, brushing away the beads of sweat that had formed. She smiled at the literal snow leopard. "Her name is Rune."

Anna's fingers tightened around her arm. "Can she talk," her sister asked in an uneasy tone.

Alarik's eyebrows shot up as he turned toward Anna. "Can she _talk_?"

Anna shrugged. "Well, Marshmallow and Olaf can talk."

"Who?"

"No," Elsa interjected, before the conversation took over the matter at hand. She shook her head. "She can't talk, but she can follow orders."

Alarik nodded slowly. "I assume you have some sort of plan, then." He fixed Elsa with a hard stare. "If that plan involves you going off alone with Rune, then I need to remind you that you've already been outvoted."

Elsa wrinkled her nose. She wanted to point out, once more, that no matter how insistent Alarik and Anna were, they couldn't actually outvote her. Instead, she shook her head. "No, she'll go with you. This way you will have help if you get in trouble. More importantly, Rune can create a frost trail."

It took him a second to catch on to what she was implying. Alarik's eyes widened. "So that the Sirma will think they are following you."

Elsa dipped her head as a wave of exhaustion momentarily stole her breath. She pressed a hand to her head and waited for the world to settle before speaking. "If the Sirma do catch up with you," she said, keeping her eyes closed, "and they see Rune, they might just assume I'm hiding nearby."

Rune nudged the side of her head with her wide nose, a low whine rumbling from her throat.

"Hey, Elsa?" Anna asked softly.

"Mmm?" Elsa blinked her eyes opened, laying her hand on Rune's head.

"Is Rune connected to you?" Her sister's gaze was pinned on the large, icy cat. "In the way Olaf and Marshmallow are?"

"Connected?" Alarik asked, frowning in confusion.

Elsa was pretty sure she knew what Anna was trying to ask. "If something happens to me, and by extension, Anna, Rune will know."

"Like if you're attacked by the Sirma." Alarik nodded. "Well, all things considered, I think it's a pretty solid plan." He squinted past the cave's entrance, where the early morning sun was barely breaking through the dense trees. "I'll head out first. Give me . . . and Rune, about twenty minutes before you two make your way out. That should be enough time to lead the Northmen away."

* * *

Anna leaned against the cave wall, ears tuned to the sounds of Alarik and Rune making their way deeper into the woods. Once she could no longer hear the crunching of leaves underfoot, she turned her attention back to her sister. Elsa was likewise leaning back against the opposite wall with her eyes closed, her arms loosely crossed and caught between her stomach and tented knees. If not for the small crease between her eyebrows, Anna would have believed her older sister was sleeping.

She was grateful for the short rest before they headed out themselves. Anna suspected that Alarik's suggestion that they wait a bit had less to do with putting physical distance between them and the Sirma and more to do with the fact they both knew that her stubborn sister wouldn't take the time to rest otherwise.

As Anna realized she was thinking of the most powerful person in the kingdom, someone who was both an absolute monarch and capable of magic limited only by her imagination, as an irate child refusing to take a nap, a snort of laughter slipped past Anna's lips. She wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry, but she was suddenly sorry for all the times she gave her mother a hard time as a child.

Elsa cracked her eyes open at the sound, blinking to clear her vision. "Care to share?"

"Not really," Anna said with a chuckle. Elsa might be her sister, the person she should be able to easily share anything with, but even she knew better than to give voice to such a comparison.

Elsa narrowed her gaze, but Anna saw the hint of amusement in the icy blue depths. Her sister shook her head with a sigh. "We should get moving. Are you ready?"

"Are _you_ ready?"

"I'm fine," Elsa said firmly, rolling her eyes. She pressed a hand to the wall behind her and pushed herself to her feet with far less grace than she likely intended.

 _Point proven,_ Anna mentally noted."You know, you get really short-tempered when you're tired," she said with a smirk, trying to keep both their minds off the very serious problem at hand.

"Anna," came the warning.

"I'm just saying." Anna made her way to the cave's mouth, where she moved aside the foliage and looked out before exiting.

"I hardly think that is true," Elsa said, keeping her voice quiet as she stepped out into the open air and drew a deep breath.

Anna paused and turned back to her sister with raised eyebrows. Surely, her sister wasn't _that_ oblivious.

"I don't get short-tempered," Elsa stated, squaring her shoulders, "and I am not tired."

Anna barely contained the burst of laughter that threatened to spill out. "Really? Elsa, the entire staff has an unwritten rule about not giving you bad news until you've been awake for at least three hours."

Elsa opened her mouth but snapped it shut. "You're lying."

"I would do no such thing," Anna said with an offended sniff. When her sister continued to stare disbelievingly, she shook her head. "How can you have such an amazing attention to the smallest detail but totally miss something so obvious?"

Elsa pursed her lips. "This conversation is ridiculous, and we should not be standing around in the open."

"Ask Kai when we get back home."

"I will," she said, lifting her chin as she strode past Anna.

"Good."

"Good."

She fell into step behind her sister as they made their way through the forest. She should probably feel bad for Kai, having no doubt that not only would her sister remember this conversation, but would indeed ask the poor man about it once they returned home to the castle.

With the air of tension sufficiently broken, they walked in companionable silence, following the cliff face as it stretched north. After about an hour, the easy mood was dashed when Anna spotted frost leaking across the path they were walking. She had hoped that the burst of energy her sister seemed to have woken with would hold out until they made it to the fort, but no matter how much she tried to distract her sister with playful banter, the presence of the ice was a stark reminder of just how dire the situation truly was.

"Elsa." Anna reached out to grab her sister's hand, waiting until she had Elsa's full, though sluggish, attention before gesturing to the path. Her sister released a dejected sigh and repeated the same process she had multiple times the previous night.

As Anna watched, she prayed to whatever deities might be listening that Elsa's strength would hold out until they made it to the fort. Each use of her power was taking a noticeable toll on her sister, and she was starting to lose that spark of optimistic hope that kept her pushing forward.

They had barely started walking again when something cold and wet brushed Anna's nose and she lifted her gaze, frowning as she realized that thick, lazy snowflakes were starting to fall. She glanced to where her sister stood a few steps ahead, her arms wrapped around her middle and head bowed in concentration on the path ahead. She closed the distance between them and placed a hand on the older woman's shoulder. "Elsa," she said softly. "It's snowing."

Elsa wrinkled her nose as she pulled herself upright and raised her face to the sky. "It's not me."

"Oh." Anna was unable to keep the surprise from her tone. She pressed her lips into a tight line, thankful for her thick woolen dress but wishing she had a cloak to keep the snow from her head and neck. "Are you cold?" she asked as her sister tightened her arms around herself.

Elsa bit her lip, averting her gaze as she took some time to consider the question. "I don't think so?" she finally said slowly, like she was still uncertain.

Anna raised her eyebrows. "You don't know?"

Elsa shrugged. "It's complicated," she said with a grimace.

Anna tilted her head and studied her sister. _It's complicated_ seemed to be the most appropriate description for her sister, and for everything having to do with her powers. Every answer Anna got left her with twice as many questions as she started with. But as her sister had told her many times, there was a time and a place for everything, and right now was neither, so she filed the bit of information away and simply stepped closer to Elsa, placing a hand along her cheek. The cuff on her sister's wrist was glowing, and Anna's worry continued to grow. "You still feel warm. Not as much as last night, though."

Elsa folded her fingers over Anna's and gently pulled her hand away. "Well, I know you have to be cold, and I would rather my baby sister not fre—catch a cold," she amended, stumbling over the words. "Or worse." She wrapped an arm around Anna's shoulder's and encouraged her forward. "Come on."

The snowfall picked up in earnest as they continued. The sisters had walked no more than another hour before Anna had to stop her sister and once more point out an icy trail being left in their wake. As Elsa melted the frost from the ground, a noise caught Anna's attention. She squinted into the surrounding woods, and had almost convinced herself that it was just some kind of animal when the clouds overhead shifted and a weak beam of sunlight reflected off the metal of a sword.

The Northman crept closer, oblivious to the fact he'd been spotted. Anna looked away quickly, her heart thudding painfully in her chest. They could try to make a run for it, but she doubted they would make it to the fort before the man caught up with them. And that was assuming there was only the one. The other option was that they take a stand and fight, though that hardly seemed like the better option. She grabbed her sister's hand and yanked Elsa close.

"Ow, Anna, what are you—"

"Shh." She pressed her shoulder against Elsa. "Don't look, but we've got company."

Elsa's eyes widened. "What?" Her head jerked as she barely avoided the urge to look over her shoulder. "Are you sure they spotted us?"

"Uh, yeah. He's heading this way."

"Just one?"

"I'm not sure. I only saw the one." Anna looped her arm through Elsa's and pulled her forward into a steady walk, hoping the man would continue to follow at a distance. "How far away is Rune?"

"Too far." Elsa's left hand curled into a fist. "How close is he?"

Anna hesitated before answering, knowing what her sister was considering but also knowing the drain using magic would have on her. At the same time, she fully understood that it was likely their best option right now. Possibly their only option.

"Not too close. I would have missed him altogether if I hadn't been looking at just the right time," Anna said, realizing that whatever noise she had heard couldn't have come from the Sirma behind them; he had been too far away. The sound must have come from something – from _someone –_ else. As Anna turned to warn her sister, she heard the _twang_ of an arrow being fired and yanked her sister closer. An arrow buried itself into the ground just in front of them.

While they had been distracted with the other northman, a second had managed to get close without their noticing. Anna saw him now, pointing a notched arrow at the them as he slowly moved closer. She noticed his gaze fell to Elsa's hand, as though he was ensuring she still wore the cuff. Heat rose in Anna's cheeks and she opened her mouth to say something, but her sister shoved her back, placing herself in between Anna and the archer.

"Elsa," she whispered harshly.

"Anna, stay behind me," she ordered.

Anna bit her lip and looked around for anything that could be used as a weapon. She saw the man she'd originally spotted heading in their direction, no longer concerned with silence or stealth.

"Come with us," the archer said gruffly from mere feet away, "and I promise not to fill your sister with arrows."

Elsa glared at him. She jerked her left hand with such suddenness even Anna hadn't been expecting it. Ice shot up from the ground in front of the northman and slammed the bow out of his grip. The arrow shot harmlessly into the distance. The man jumped back but before he could recover, Elsa sent a stream of ice toward his feet and knocked him to the ground. She immediately turned her attention to the other man, stepping away from Anna and throwing out a hand to repeat the same move.

Anna continued her search of the immediate area for something she could use to help. She spotted a broken branch and grabbed it, looking up just in time to see the archer had made his way back to his feet and was quickly advancing on her distracted sister. She closed the distance between them and swung the branch as hard as she could. The branch connected with the back of the archer's head with a sickening crack that would surely haunt her for the rest of her days. He hit the ground hard, like a marionette whose strings had been cut.

She dropped the branch and swallowed thickly, tearing her gaze away from the mess at her feet and turning toward her sister just in time to watch Elsa hit the ground. Her sister dropped to her knees and curled tightly around herself, until her forehead almost touched the ground.

"Elsa!" She ran to her sister, her hands ghosting over Elsa's balled up form but afraid to touch her, not wanting to hurt her further if she was injured. She looked to where she last saw the other man, and a sliver of relief ran through her when she found him sprawled on the ground, a thick band of ice locking him there.

Muffled gasps of air caught her attention and she placed a gentle hand on her sister's right arm, only to have Elsa jerk away with a hiss.

"Elsa." She pulled her own hand back, concern and fear twisting her stomach into a knot. "What's wrong?"

Her sister shook her head and pushed herself up, bracing her left hand against a tree as she tried to shove to her feet. She barely made it halfway before her knees gave out and she hit the ground hard.

Anna grabbed Elsa's left shoulder to keep her from tipping to far forward, making sure not to touch the right arm pressed tightly to her stomach like she was protecting it. "Elsa, stop."

Elsa shook her head again, breathing so fast and irregular that Anna was worried she'd start hyperventilating. "We need to keep moving."

"No," Anna said sharply. "You need to stop and catch your breath." She knew her sister wouldn't stop for herself, and added, "if you pass out, I can't carry you, and we both know I'm not going to leave you behind." She hated that she had to emotionally blackmail her own sister to take five minutes to recover.

Elsa didn't meet her eyes but stopped struggling to stand, instead allowing herself list against the tree.

Anna nodded and adjusted her grip from Elsa's shoulder to her left hand, closing her fingers around the unnaturally warm ones. "Now, tell me what's going on."

Elsa bit her bottom lip. "My arm—" she clenched her teeth so tightly it made Anna's own jaw ache "— it feels like it's on fire."

Anna looked at her right arm and noticed the gem was still glowing brightly. Usually the glow faded to a dull pulse when Elsa wasn't using her magic. "You're not still . . ."

"No."

"Then why is it still glowing?"

"I don't know." Her sister's face creased with pain and she squeezed Anna's hand tightly. "I think, maybe...just give me a minute."

Anna squeezed back, rubbing the pad of her thumb in small circles along the back of Elsa's hand. She didn't know what else to do. Elsa felt hot again, more so than last night. Her chest tightened and Anna had to remind herself to breath, knowing that panicking right now, no matter how much she wanted to, was the last thing her sister needed.

It felt like forever but couldn't have been more than a few minutes before the glowing stone on the cuff dimmed. Anna felt a dizzying flood of relief as Elsa's posture began to relax, and her breathing slowed to a more normal rate. She allowed her sister a few more minutes to collect herself as she surveyed the area around them, listening for the slightest unexpected sound. There was nothing but the soft snowfall patting the leaves and ground. A thick coat of snow now covered the ground and while that would make them easier to follow, it also meant there wasn't any need for Elsa to continue wasting energy hiding any trail of frost she left behind.

Elsa squeezed her hand. "Let's go," she said. She still sounded winded and Anna knew she had to be exhausted, but they couldn't risk staying there any longer.

Anna nodded and drew her sister's left arm over her shoulder, wrapping an arm around Elsa's waist. She shoved down hard at the anxiety that threatened to squeeze the air out of her chest as Elsa accepted the help without comment or complaint.

She supported her sister as they continued to follow the cliffside. Her sister's weight grew heavier with each step, but as they turned the bend and Anna soaked in the sight of the tall man-made stone walls, she felt like she might weep in relief.

* * *

Elsa wrapped her arms around herself and shifted on the thin mattress. Her body immediately listed to the side and she didn't fight it, resting her head against the cool stone wall. She stretched her legs out on the bed, but otherwise followed her sister's very firm command of "don't move" while she waited for Anna to return to the small room they'd been given. It had taken longer than she wanted for them to make it to Sioaskard, and the energy she had woken with had faded quickly as the day progressed. A large chunk of what she had mustered had been sent in the opposite direction with Alarik, in the form of her newest creation, what was left had been quickly burned through when the Sirma attacked.

The guard at the front gate of Sioaskard hadn't believed Anna when she told them who they were. In the man's defense, by the time they had reached the fort Elsa was barely on her feet, being hauled along by her sister with one arm thrown over Anna's shoulders, stumbling along like a common drunk. She was also doubtful that anyone at the fort expected royalty to show up at their gates without an announcement of some kind, looking like they had spent the last two days trudging through the forest.

Elsa wasn't sure how her sister had finally convinced the guards to let them inside; there was a chunk of time in her memory that was more than a little hazy. She vaguely remembered Anna arguing with the guard, then sitting on this thin mattress in this small room while her sister said something about getting food. She couldn't ask her sister how things had gone, because that would mean admitting to Anna that she'd blacked out on her feet. Anna already felt guilty and had more than enough to worry about; Elsa wasn't going to add to the load if she could help it.

She dropped her gaze to the cuff around the wrist pressed against her stomach. Much like when she created Rune, she had expected the sharp pain searing down her arm when she used her magic to defend herself and her sister. She had even been prepared for the wave of exhaustion that crashed through her like an icebreaker. But the pain had lingered after the fight, feeling like molten shards of glass racing through her arm and slamming into her chest, stealing her breath. It had been beyond anything she had experienced before.

She twisted her wrist. The stone continued to glow faintly, and she could feel it absorbing her magic. It hadn't taken long for her to realize that this stone wasn't just meant to absorb what magic she consciously created, but all the magic that was within her. She didn't know what that meant in the long term, but the result was a constant slow drain, like bleeding out.

She shifted again on the bed, trying to find a comfortable position, and closed her eyes in the hopes of clearing away the foggy feeling that was settling over her. It felt like only a minute had passed, maybe two, when a hand squeezed her shoulder and woke her. She blinked blearily up at the figure but couldn't bring it into focus, had to press her palms against her eyes to see it was her sister standing in front of her, holding two steaming bowls.

"Elsa." Anna's soft voice cut through the haze as she nudged her legs to make room to sit on the bed facing her and offering her a bowl.

She pushed against the bed, drawing herself a little more upright before taking the offered bowl. It looked to contain a simple chicken and broth soup, but Elsa suddenly realized just how hungry she was and was grateful for it. "Thank you."

"It's coming down pretty hard out there."

Elsa paused with a spoonful halfway to her mouth. "What is?"

"The snow," Anna said simply before digging into her own meal.

Elsa frowned and turned toward the door of the windowless room. "I hope Alarik is okay." A thought struck her then, and she silently cursed herself for not thinking of it sooner. She set her bowl aside on the nightstand and pressed her palms against the mattress, preparing her weary body to stand.

Anna grabbed her shoulder with her free hand, stopping Elsa before she made it very far. "What are you doing?"

"We need to send some guards to find Alarik and make sure he's okay." Elsa shook her head, annoyed with herself. "I should have done so as soon as we arrived."

Anna tightened her hold. "First of all, you were barely conscious when we got here, Elsa, and I'm honestly surprised you are awake _and_ coherent right now. Second, I already sent some guards out. Well, I asked them, because they still don't believe that I'm the Princess. But that's beside the point...I guess." She shook her head. "It seems Alarik spent a few years posted here, so when I told Aaren, the soldier who let us in, he said he would take a few guys and find our wayward friend."

Elsa nodded and relaxed against the bed's headboard. She reached for her bowl, thankful for her sister picking up her slack but feeling bad there had been need for it. It wasn't like her to make such an oversight, but she supposed her sister was right. She had been pretty out of it by the time they arrived at the fort. She felt only slightly better after having the opportunity to sit for a bit, and it had put only a dent in the exhaustion that was dogging her.

Elsa looked at the pale, worried face of her younger sister and was guilty all over again, for everything that had happened. They would not be in this situation if it wasn't for her and her magic. She bumped Anna with her leg and forced a smile as she asked in a tired but teasing tone, "still couldn't convince them that you're the Princess?"

Anna wrinkled her nose. "That gate guard was so rude." She fixed Elsa with a doe-y, wide-eyed look. "He called you a wench."

Her sister said it with such insulted sincerity that Elsa couldn't help the very un-queen like snort that escaped. She ended up choking on her soup and pressed a palm to her chest as she coughed harshly.

"I'm glad you find it funny."

She cleared her throat. "I've been called worse."

"By who?" Anna settled her bowl in her lap and turned her full attention to her sister.

Elsa averted her gaze and used a large spoonful of soup to fill her mouth.

"Fine, fine. Keep your secrets," her sister said with a pout, returning to her own meal. "He was still rude."

"Anna, we are filthy, my dress it torn, and if I look half as bad as I—" Elsa snapped her mouth shut as she realized what she nearly admitted to. She cursed herself. Normally she was much better at watching what she said.

"Half as bad as you feel?" Anna finished for her. "Just how bad _do_ you feel? And I swear, if you say I'm fine- "

"I'm just tired, Anna," Elsa said with a sigh. "Really tired. I'll be better once we get this cuff off."

Anna pressed her lips together but let the subject drop, returning to her soup. They sat and ate in silence until both had polished off the contents of their bowls.

"I thought this place would have more soldiers." Anna said nonchalantly, moving their empty bowls to a nearby table.

Elsa frowned. "What do you mean?"

Anna lifted a shoulder. "I just thought there would be, like, a whole battalion here. Or more."

"There is a whole battalion here," Elsa said slowly.

Anna shook her head. "Elsa, there are less than a hundred soldiers in the fort."

Elsa recoiled. "What? No, that's not right." She dug through her memory, which took more effort than it probably should. She remembered meeting with the Admiral, signing off on the military records and census a few weeks before her coronation, and she was positive that Sioaskard had reported being staffed with a full battalion. "Maybe they are just not in the fort at the moment."

Anna shook her head. "I asked around when I was getting food." She shifted her weight, obviously aware that what she was saying was making Elsa uneasy. "They said there hasn't been more than a hundred soldiers here for four or five years."

No, Elsa knew that wasn't correct. If there were less than a hundred soldiers here, they were presented with two brand-new problems. There wouldn't be enough soldiers for a proper search of the surrounding woods to find the Northmen, and someone here was falsifying the information she was receiving in Arendelle. She honestly wasn't sure which was worse.

She pushed up from the mattress, ignoring the black spots as her vision strobed. "I need to speak with the fort's commander." Commander Lee, she remembered. He had been stationed at Sioaskard for some time.

"Whoa, Elsa." Anna quickly blocked her path, pressing her back down onto the bed with infuriating ease. "I know it's hard, but I'm going to need you to stop being Queen for like, five minutes."

Elsa rolled her eyes. She wasn't sure how many times they'd had this argument over the course of the past few months, but it felt old and tired. "When are you going to stop asking me that?"

"When you stop acting like it's an unreasonable request." Anna subtly moved the blanket to the end of the bed. "I know you like to pretend otherwise, and the way people treat you can make it hard to remember, but you are _human_. And you have human needs." Her sister bent and lifted her ankles onto the bed, forcing Elsa to turn with her to keep from falling over.

"Anna - "

"I'm not saying don't talk to the commander." Her voice soft and soothing, her sister pressed Elsa's shoulders until she was laying back. Elsa knew exactly what she was doing but was having a hard time working up the energy to resist. "I'm just asking," Anna continued, "that before you go barging in on a man who doesn't even realize he has the Queen in the peasant quarters of his fort, we wait for Alarik to get here, make sure he's okay, and regroup."

Elsa blinked heavily at her sister. Sleep was pulling at her, making it hard to focus. "Technically, it's my fort," she muttered, knowing she was being petulant.

She didn't hear what her sister said in return as she drew the blanket up. Anna's hand brushed across her forehead, over her bangs, and Elsa turned into her sister's touch, the cool hand the last thing she felt as she finally let go.


	12. Chapter 12

Anna's hand lingered against her sister's forehead as Elsa's labored breathing evened out in sleep. She waited a few more minutes, making sure Elsa was truly asleep, then sagged against the wall with a sigh of relief. Her sister still felt hot, her face flushed like she was fighting off an illness, but she appeared to be resting peacefully and deeply. Anna folded down the blanket and lifted Elsa's right arm, careful not to disturb the sleeping woman, and laid on top of the covers, where she could easily see the cuff encircling her wrist. If something happened or changed with the cuff, she doubted there was anything she could do anything about it, but she wanted to visually reassure herself that it wasn't doing more than pulsing with the faint glow she'd grown somewhat used to. It was no more than a false sense of security, but she felt better for it.

Anna stood next to the bed, at a loss of what to do from here. Elsa was sleeping, and likely would be for hours. At least, if Anna had anything to say about it. She toyed with the idea of getting some sleep herself; she was tired, wrung out, and wanted nothing more than to curl into a ball next to her sister and pretend the last couple of days hadn't happened. But she felt anxious and didn't think she could sleep if she tried. She wasn't sure she even wanted to try, with Alarik still in the woods and the cuff doing whatever it was to her sister, she was worried that if she dropped her guard for even a moment, something would happen that she wouldn't be there to stop. It was a ridiculous thought; there wasn't anything she could do _now_ , awake, standing in this small room of the fort. She was completely helpless to do anything to change their current situation.

Anna paced restlessly around the room, her hands clasped and fidgeting in front of her as her mind raced, feelings and thoughts bounced around senselessly, grappling for attention but slipping away too quickly to grasp any single one. She came to a sudden stop in the middle of the room, shoulders slumping as she threw her head back and released a quiet growl of frustration. She hated this. She had never been good at sitting still and waiting, unlike her sister, who seemed to have an endless supply of patience. Anna liked to be moving – she _needed_ to be moving. She wasn't built for stillness.

A pained sound from behind Anna drew her attention. She turned to see that while Elsa was still asleep, she was growing restless, her pale face scrunched in discomfort as she shifted atop the thin mattress. Anna covered the short distance and sank to the bed next to her sister. Careful not to wake the older woman, she gathered Elsa in her arms, drawing her close. She began to hum softly, brushing her fingers through her sister's hair. Elsa stirred once more, then settled with a soft sigh, her face smoothing out in deep slumber.

Anna laid her head back against the wall. Now that she had finally stopped moving, she could no longer ignore the heaviness of her own eyelids. She let them slip shut, telling herself that she would only rest them for a few minutes, just until she was sure her sister was resting peacefully.

Minutes, or perhaps hours, later, Anna startled awake. She had no idea how long she had slept, but she felt better for it. She looked down to see Elsa still sleeping, seemingly deeply, her head resting against Anna's shoulder. A hollow thump at the door reminded her what had woken her in the first place. She carefully slid from behind her sister, settling her against the pillows, then made her way to the door. She opened it slowly, only to have surprise and relief wash over her as Rune brushed past and made her way directly to where Elsa was sleeping. Rune jumped up and laid her wide head across Elsa's right arm and stomach, one large paw draped over her waist.

Her sister didn't so much as stir at the new presence, and Anna didn't know whether to be relieved or worried. For now, she chose to set that aside, she looked back to her sister once more, confident that she could leave Elsa in the care of the large snow leopard. She slipped out of the room, closing the door softly behind her, and walked quickly down the hallway to where it led to the courtyard. She felt relief loosen her chest as she saw the figure making his way through the courtyard. Even from a distance, she could see the same relief light up his face.

His steps quickened as he closed the distance between them. "Thank god. Are you both okay?"

Anna nodded, taken aback by the urgency of his question. "Yeah," she assured him. "We had a run-in with some Sirma, but we're okay." She swallowed thickly, remembering with nauseating clarity the wet _crack_ from her swung branch connecting with the back of the archer's head. The way he went down and didn't move. She pressed her hand to her forehead, feeling slightly faint, and understanding why her sister lost her lunch after the fight in the longhouse. She hadn't seen what had happened after she got Alarik and herself out of that building, but she'd seen her sister pierce the guard's wrist with ice, and felt that was more than enough.

"I had just started circling back toward the fort when Rune shot off like someone had set her tail on fire. By the time I caught up with her, I found the remnants of what I assume was that run-in as well as two other Northmen that Rune made quick work of."

Anna started. She hadn't realized there were more Sirma in the woods then and was suddenly that much more grateful for Rune's presence and connection to her sister. If there had been a second confrontation in the woods, there would have been no real way for them to defend themselves.

Alarik frowned and looked around the courtyard. "Where's is she?"

Anna gestured toward the little room she'd come from. "Sleeping. Rune is with her."

"How's she doing?"

Anna wrapped her arms around herself, her fear and concern quickly bubbling to the surface. "She said she's just tired but . . . " She shook her head, trying to bite back the panic and helplessness that she'd been fighting to hold back. Now that she had started talking, it felt like a floodgate was opening. "After the fight with the Northmen, something happened with the cuff. Even after she stopped using her magic, it was still glowing, and seemed to be causing her pain. She said she's fine now, but she has a habit of downplaying her own discomfort, so I don't know if she is or—" A lump clogged Anna's throat. She and Elsa had only been reunited for a few months, and they were still learning how to be sisters. Now, it felt like there was a very real chance all of that could be taken away from her. She didn't know what she would do if something happened to her sister. Even when they were separated, she had been able to comfort herself with the fact that Elsa was _there_ , even if a door stood between them.

Alarik wrapped his hands around her arms and squeezed tightly. "We'll figure this out, Anna. Your sister is a strong person."

Anna averted her gaze, her eyes watering. "She shouldn't have to be. She's been through enough."

"I'm afraid it might get worse before it gets better." Alarik dropped his hands away, pressing his lips into a tight line. "We have a bigger problem than we originally thought."

Her eyes widened as she nodded. "Elsa seemed to be thinking the same thing. I really hope you're referring to the same problem, because I think we have met and passed our quota of things that can go wrong."

He winced, and Anna got the sinking feeling they weren't referring to the same issue at all. She chewed on her lower lip, glancing back toward the direction of the room where Elsa was currently sleeping. She knew they'd have to wake her up and discuss what was going on, to decide on their next move, but it had only been a few short hours and Anna wanted to leave her sister to sleep for as long as possible. She turned back to Alarik to find him staring at her, a thoughtful look on his face. "You look like you could use a bath."

Anna narrowed her eyes, feeling like she should be insulted by his words. Should be, if it wasn't painfully true. She wrinkled her nose and instead of arguing, offered a reluctant nod.

"I mean no disrespect, of course, Your Highness," he added with a crooked smile. "I was merely thinking that before we disturb your sister, we could take the, however brief, calm in the storm to clean up a bit. Perhaps get some rest, ourselves."

"And patch the wound in your side?" Anna asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, that as well."

She hesitated but couldn't deny that a bath sounded heavenly. Their current situation would still be there after, and maybe a little easier to face after a hot bath.

* * *

Waking felt like a chore, like pushing through thick layers of cotton that seemed to have been stuffed into Elsa's skull while she was otherwise unaware. Her head was pounding, her stomach was churning, and her thoughts were slow and sluggish, like pressing through molasses in the dead of winter. She knew she should wake up but couldn't remember exactly why it was so important that she do so. She was about to give up the struggle and allow herself to fall back into the comforting abyss when something touched the side of her face. She flinched.

"Hey, it's okay. It's just me."

A hand brushed across her forehead, gentle fingers pushing her bangs back. Elsa leaned into the touch as she worked her eyes open, blinking to clear her vision and pull the blurry figure above her into focus. "Anna."

Her sister smiled encouragingly. "How you doing?"

Elsa frowned, her gaze slipping away from her sister's as she looked around the small, stone-walled room, allowing a long moment for the events of the last two days to catch up with her. She slipped her eyes closed once more as it all flooded back. She felt groggy and slow, but nowhere near as tired and drained as she had when she and Anna first reached the fortress. She pressed her fingertips against her forehead and attempted to organize her thoughts. "How long was I out?"

"Just a few hours. Sorry to wake you."

"No, it's fine." Elsa absorbed that information and opened her eyes, planting her hands on the bed and shoving herself up to lean back against the headboard. A dissatisfied rumble at her side had her pausing her movements long enough to realize that Rune had been using her as a pillow. She couldn't help but smile as she brushed the top of the snow leopard's head, then pushed further up in bed until she had managed a seated position. She turned her attention back to her sister. "Did Alarik make it back?"

Anna leaned back, allowing Elsa to see past her. Seated at the table next to the fireplace, the man in question offered a small wave.

Elsa nodded, and the motion rebounded painfully in her skull. She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose with a groan, trying to clear away the muddiness in her mind. "I don't suppose you brought any coffee with you?" She felt like she'd been drugged, and while she wouldn't put it past her sister do such a thing, given her condition, she was fairly certain there hadn't actually been a need. Elsa had been more than exhausted enough to sleep without any extra help. Not that she would admit to as much out loud.

The silence in the room stretched on, disappointingly so, and just as Elsa opened her mouth to say something, the unmistakable aroma of strong coffee filled the air. She drew one eye open and found a steaming cup in front of her. She looked up to see Alarik holding the mug, and she accepted it gratefully, wrapping her hands around the warm cup. She blew lightly across the top before taking a deep drink. "Mmm." The coffee was hot enough to scold her tongue, but it was glorious and was already helping to clear away some of the cobwebs muddling her brain. "Remind me to knight you when we get back to Arendelle," she said, taking another drink.

From her side, Anna snorted. "Congratulations, Alarik," she said as he returned to his seat. "You have discovered one of the Queen's two greatest addictions."

"Really? And the other one?"

"Work."

Elsa rolled her eyes but ignored her sister in favor of enjoying the coffee that was already going to work easing her headache and clearing her mind.

Alarik tilted his head. "I don't actually think you can be addicted to work?"

"Oh, you should see her schedule," Anna persisted. "The other day, she worked from six until ten, and actually had to schedule personal time. Which was only fifteen minutes." She shook her head in amusement. "I'm pretty sure she thinks that she will wither away if she's not working."

"I can hear you," Elsa said, leveling a mostly playful glare at her sister. "I'm tired, not deaf." She rested the half-empty cup in her lap and straightened. "And I think there are far more important things we should be discussing right now."

"See," Anna said, raising her eyebrows at Alarik. "All work. Also, cranky when she first wakes up."

Elsa sighed, pressing her fingers to her forehead. "You are the worst."

Anna smiled brightly, and Elsa wasn't sure whether she wanted to laugh or shove the girl off the bed in some childish play at revenge. For the moment, she opted for neither.

With the tension in the room suitably broken, she took the opportunity to enjoy this easy, calm moment before it had to be dashed with talk of the very real danger they were still facing. Finally, with her thoughts in order and her head not pounding quite so fiercely, Elsa broke the silence. "Alarik," she said, "you were posted here a few years back, yes?"

"I was," he confirmed. "Almost a year before Arendelle went to war in defense of an ally. And then again about a year after it."

Elsa nodded. "Do you remember how many soldiers were posted here?"

Alarik looked up at the ceiling as he sorted through the memories. She appreciated the time he was taking to give her the most informed answers he could. "It was a full battalion before we were deployed. We – we lost a lot of men, more than half the unit. When we returned, they were never replaced. At least not while I was here. I would say we were down to just under half a battalion by the time I received orders to go south." He looked across the small space to where Elsa was seated on the bed. "I assume you're not asking out of curiosity."

"There are less than a hundred soldiers here," Anna supplied.

"There is supposed to still be an entire battalion," Elsa added, sipping the remainder of her coffee. "And according to the report I received a few months ago, there was."

Alarik frowned. "You think someone has been falsifying the reports?"

Elsa set her empty cup aside on the bedside stand. "If they have, they've been doing so for years."

Alarik pressed his lips into a thin line. "There are a few different reasons someone might lie about the number of soldiers they have. Normally, I wouldn't jump straight to disloyalty . . ."

"But?" Elsa's chest tightened and she had the distinct feeling that she was not going to like what he was going to say next.

"In the woods, not too far south of here, there is a Northmen encampment." He hesitated before adding, "I wasn't sure how they managed to get past the Sioaskard fortress, but—"

"If someone high up here is disloyal to the crown, then it's possible they were snuck past the border," Elsa finished for him. She pressed her hand to her forehead once more. All of a sudden, their already complicated situation had been made all the more complicated. "If we try heading back to Valle now, there is a good chance they could ambush us along the way. But if we stay here . . ." There was truly no good option for them.

"They don't know who we are," Anna spoke up. "I mean, I tried to tell them, but they didn't believe me. Maybe that could work to our advantage."

"Maybe," Alarik said slowly. "It depends on how many are involved. If it's just a few people, then we should be clear. But I know some of these men. I fought beside them, and I don't think they are the type to turn against their country in favor of whatever these Northmen might be offering."

Anna looked between him and Elsa. "So, what do we do?"

Suddenly, they were both looking to her for an answer she felt too tired and worn to give. But she had a job to do, a duty, and people would always be looking to her for answers. To make the hard choice, to appear far more in control then she ever truly was. Elsa took a deep breath as she pulled her shoulders back and lifted her chin, slipping into the role of Queen. "I need paper and something to write with."

Anna immediately hopped to her feet to look around the room, finding something in a drawer from a desk that Elsa hadn't before noticed was tucked into a corner of the room. She accepted the items from her sister and scribbled a quick note against the surface of the nightstand, signing it with the signature she affixed to all official documents. She folded the paper and held it out to the snow leopard lounging at her side.

Rune lifted her head, trapping the paper gently between her teeth before jumping off the bed. Elsa started to get up but was stopped quickly, Anna putting a hand on her shoulder and gently pushing her back into bed.

"No, stay." Anna said simply before crossing the room to open the door for Rune.

"Woof," Elsa muttered as Rune bounded out of the room. She leaned back against the headboard.

Anna shut the door behind the snow leopard and turned back to Elsa with a questioning look.

"I gave Rune a message to take to Captain Jogeir," Elsa explained. "Letting him know what is going on here at the fort, and with the Sirma. It shouldn't take her long to get down to Valle. Hopefully, the Captain can gather what men are there and make it up here to the fort by tomorrow afternoon. It may not solve the problem at hand – problems," she corrected herself, "but alone, there isn't much the three of us can do, and I don't know who here we can trust."

"As long as they don't know who you are, we may be safe until Captain Jogeir arrives with men," Alarik agreed. "But that means you are both going to have to stay in this room until then."

Elsa's shoulders slumped as she reluctantly nodded. She hadn't exactly planned on taking a stroll around the fort, but after thirteen years of being confined to her room, the thought of not being able to leave a single space made her skin itch. But she knew why it needed to be done; it was too great a risk that someone would recognize either of them. If they were, news of the Queen and Crown Princess being in the fort would spread like wildfire. And with questionable loyalties on the table, there was no way to know just how bad, or how quickly, that could turn.

"Well, then, I'm glad I was able to take a bath earlier," Anna said happily.

Elsa narrowed her gaze at her sister, suddenly feeling uncomfortably grimy with dirt and dried sweat. She looked down at her rumpled clothes and flicked a bit of clumped dirt from her sleeve at Anna.

"Hey," her sister complained, brushing away the dirt as it landed on her lap. "Unlike you, I'm clean, and I would like to stay that way."

Elsa glared at the girl, tempted to drop a huge pile of snow on her head despite what it would cost her. She decided against it, for now. "Speaking of clean," she said, gesturing to Anna's clothes, "what are you wearing?"

Anna was still wearing her own boots, but in place of the grey wool traveling dress she'd had on earlier, she now wore a pair of loose black woolen breeches and a white tunic with a thick navy wool shirt over top, tied at the waist with a black sash. "Alarik found it for me since my clothes were pretty dirty." She looked down at herself. "What's wrong with it?"

"You look like Kristoff."

Anna lifted her nose in the air. "I take that as a compliment."

"You would," Elsa replied playfully. In truth, the outfit looked comfortable if anything, and though she wouldn't admit it, she was jealous of her sister, longing for a bath and change of clothes herself. Sometimes, it was the simple things. Feeling Alarik's gaze on her, she turned to their quiet companion across the room. "You look like you have a question."

Caught in the middle of obviously deep thought, Alarik startled, then pulled himself up in his seat. "Your Majesty—"

"Elsa," she interrupted, correcting him.

"Elsa," he repeated, with a dip of his head. "I was just wondering...how are you doing?"

"I'm fine," Elsa said quickly, the words flowing out like a well-versed lie.

"No." Alarik shook his head, her gaze narrowing. "How are you _really_ feeling."

She could feel both Anna and Alarik's eyes on her. Elsa rolled her lips against her teeth, considering. As much a dent as the nap and coffee had put in her exhaustion, her mind was still slow-moving, and she could feel the cuff seeping away her energy little by little. "Better than when we first arrived here," she said finally. She just needed to sleep a little longer, and then she was sure she would be fine.

Anna wrinkled her nose. "Considering the fact that someone had to help me get you into this room, that's not a very high bar." She cocked her head, adding, "in fact, if that bar was any lower, you'd trip on it."

"Hilarious." Elsa deadpanned, though her gut tightened at the thought that she had been completely unaware of someone assisting Anna in carrying her. _Just a few more hours of sleep_ , she told herself again. _I'll be fine._

"If we can figure out what the cuff is doing," Alarik spoke up, keeping them on track, "maybe we can get it off."

Elsa nodded, shifting her arm to look down at the cuff. "The runes along the edge of the stone," she said, her finger brushing lightly over the metal engravings. "I wasn't sure at first – it's been a while since I last saw it – but I think they're connected to the Landvættir."

Anna leaned in closer to inspect the stone for herself. "The who?"

"Landvættir," she repeated. "The literal translation is closer to 'Land Wrights', but they were believed to be nature spirits during the time of the Vikings." Her fingertip glided toward the symbol in the center of the stone. "I think this symbol here is a bindrune, a combination of ancient runes, but I can't make out which ones. It looks like it might be incomplete."

"You seem to know a lot about the subject," Alarik remarked, sounding impressed.

Elsa lifted a shoulder. "You would be surprised how much reading you can do during thirteen years of isolation."

Alarik had the good grace to look contrite.

"It's very old magic," Elsa said, shaking her head. "But I don't think..." she said slowly, her fingers ghosting over the cuff. "I don't think it's working correctly."

Anna's eyebrows raised as she looked over at Alarik then back to Elsa. "What do you mean?"

Elsa squinted, thinking back on the last two days and the sensations she had felt while using her magic. "I think it's absorbing my magic," she told them. "The power I use. The brighter the stone glows, the more magic it absorbs."

Anna looked down at the dimly glowing stone. "Elsa," she said, waiting for her sister to meet her gaze.

Her tone was firm and urgent in a way that was rare for the younger girl, and Elsa knew exactly what her sister's next question was going to be. She braced herself for it, knowing Anna wasn't going to like hearing the answer any more than she liked giving it.

"Is it absorbing your magic right now?"

Elsa quickly dropped her gaze, pulling her lower lip between her teeth. She didn't want to lie but she wanted to protect her sister, wanted to keep Anna from worrying about things she couldn't help. At the same time, she was painfully aware that she couldn't hide this. It might hurt them all if she did. She looked up but didn't respond, knowing that her silence was just as much an answer as anything she could have said.

Anna shook her head. "Why didn't you say anything?" she asked harshly, jabbing at Elsa with a finger.

She wrapped her arms around herself. "I didn't want to worry you," Elsa said in a low, regretful tone.

Several emotions chased each other crossed Anna's face before she seemed to settle on one. She leaned forward and placed a hand on Elsa's bent knee. "Elsa, you can't always protect me."

The corner of Elsa's mouth lifted in lopsided smile. "I can try."

Anna's shoulders slumped as she sighed. A moment of heavy silence sat in the room before she said, "you said you don't think the cuff is working correctly. Why?"

"It's absorbing my magic as I create it," Elsa answered honestly, "but it doesn't seem to be able to absorb at anywhere near the rate I can create it. Which means that while it may take some extra effort, I can still use my magic." She resisted the sudden urge to rub her eyes. Her body was beginning to feel heavy again, as though whatever energy she had managed to build up during her few hours of sleep was quickly dissipating, leaving her feeling worn-out and drained.

Alarik, who had been wisely staying silent while the sisters had a moment, drew the attention of the room back his way. "That doesn't seem very useful for what the Sirma want," he said. "If you can still use your magic then it's harder to keep you under control. And the drain caused by using your magic would make it problematic in a full-scale battle. Either way is a loss for them."

"There has to be more to it." Elsa looked down at the symbols on the stone, searching her mind for dusty information she had read years ago.

"You said the stone can't absorb the magic fast enough to keep you from using it, right?" Alarik pressed forward.

Elsa nodded.

"Oh." Anna perked up, interrupting Alarik before he could continue. "Maybe you could overload it?"

Alarik smiled at Anna. "Exactly. Feed the stone more magic than it can handle, and we might be able to break it."

Elsa tightened her arms around herself, staring into a middle ground as she considered what they were suggesting. "Maybe," she said slowly. "Since I can still use my magic, it creates a sort of—" she searched for the best word, "—spillway for the stone, like on a dam. But if I try to contain the power while building it, it might be possible. But . . . I can't do that here, in this room."

Anna frowned. "Why not?"

"I have a feeling that the amount of magic it would take to break the cuff will not be insignificant. If I start building up that much magic while also trying to contain it? When it's finally released . . ." Elsa shook her head. "I won't be able to control it then, and it will come out all at once."

"Can't you just..." Anna waved her hand in the air.

"Dismiss it?" Elsa asked, raising an eyebrow at her sister.

Anna nodded. "Yeah, you've done that before when you've gotten upset or overwhelmed."

"This would be different." Her eyebrows drew tightly together. There were things about her magic that she'd never explained to anyone before. Not because she didn't want to, but because she didn't know how to put them into words, these things she just instinctually _knew_. Elsa took a deep breath, feeling as though she owed it to her sister to try. "This wouldn't be a result of emotions, it would be purposeful, and a lot of power. I—" she pressed her lips into a thin line, feeling a rare flare of frustration over not being able to find the correct words to explain herself.

Out of the corner of her eye, Elsa saw the stone on the cuff flare brighter too, for just a moment. She drew in another deep breath. Her frustration was causing her to feel anxious, and her magic was responding in kind. She hoped that she was the only one who saw the stone, but a quick glance at Anna's face told her that her sister had noticed as well.

Elsa sighed, her shoulders slumping. "I don't know how to explain it. You will just have to trust me."

"It's possible we could get out of the fort unseen and go into the woods," Alarik offered. "There are a few unused passages throughout the fort, and I doubt many people know about them. If we stay close, we shouldn't have to worry about the Sirma."

"No." Anna said firm, looking from Alarik to Elsa. "I want to get that cuff off as soon as possible, but I think we should wait for Jogeir and his men. I know you are trying to pretend you're fine, but you're exhausted, I'm tired, and I'm sure Alarik isn't faring much better. If something happens to you while trying to break this cuff . . ." she trailed off, clearly not wanting to finish the thought. "If we wait for Captain Jogeir, at least there will be people here we can trust."

The stubborn part of Elsa wanted to try and rid herself of the cuff immediately, but the sensible part knew that her sister was right. She _was_ exhausted, and there was a chance she wouldn't even be able to build up the amount of magic that would be needed to break the stone. If she tried and failed, it would take her out of the game completely, one way or another, and leave Anna and Alarik defenseless and alone inside a fort full of people with questionable loyalties. That was something she couldn't allow. Elsa dipped her head and released a breath. "Okay."

Anna rolled her eyes, throwing her hands into the air. "Elsa, you are the most stubborn—wait, what?" The tirade she had clearly been preparing was halted in its tracks as her sister's unexpected answer caught up with her racing mind.

"I said 'okay'," Elsa repeated softly, an edge of resignation coloring her tone. "We'll wait for the captain before trying anything."

Anna tilted her head and narrowed her gaze. "And you'll rest? Here in bed, till then?"

A small chuckle brushed past Elsa's lips. "Yes, Anna. I promise I will stay here in bed and rest. Actually rest. Eyes shut and everything." She had already put her sister through enough; she could at least give her this.

"Good. I think." Anna squinted, studying Elsa's face. "Honestly, I'm not sure whether I should be happy that you are _finally_ listening to me, or even more worried."

"How about," Elsa said, "we convince Alarik to find a bowl of hot water, so I can at least clean up a little bit? And then we _all_ get some rest."

* * *

For being built into the side of a mountain, Sioaskard Fortress was quite large. It was also very old, constructed of stone blocks mined from the mountain it was built into.

A stone bridge connected the fort to the main road, stretching over a deep gulch that ran perpendicular to the road before turning to disappear into the surrounding woods. There were two doors one had to get through to access the fort: a small portcullis that stood at the very front of the structure, and a much larger, thick wooden door built into the main wall. Sioaskard had multiple levels. The very bottom floor sat underground, containing the dungeons and storage areas for both foodstuffs and equipment. The second level held mostly soldier's rooms and barracks. The third and main level of the fort housed a large open courtyard. On the northern side were the dining area and kitchens, while the southern end had stables and extra rooms used for meetings. These room were also used as sleeping quarters for visitors of Sioaskard.

Alarik was currently sitting in one of these rooms, warming himself next to a small fire. For a fraction of a moment, he considered leaving the sisters and sleeping instead in the soldier's bunkhouse. He ultimately decided against it; the bunkhouse was a level down and, for obvious reasons, he didn't want to leave the small royal family unprotected.

Originally, he had tried sleeping in one of the chairs, but Anna had told him that under no uncertain terms was she going to allow him to sleep in a wooden chair, pointing him instead to one of the two beds in the room. He reflexively opened his mouth to refuse, but she wouldn't listen. Instead, she snuggled into the other bed next to her sister, who seemed both amused and perfectly content with the arrangement. The older woman raised her gaze and informed him, with a roguish smile he hadn't realized the Queen capable of, that he had been outvoted.

He had managed a few hours of sleep, but it was restless at best. His mind wouldn't stop racing, thinking back over the discussion from earlier. Alarik was most troubled was the thought that the men here, soldiers he had fought side by side with, could possibly be committing treason. There was a chance they were completely off the mark, that the false information regarding the number of soldiers stationed here had nothing to do with the Sirma encampment in the woods. There were plenty of passages in the mountains that one could sneak a company through, if they were brave enough and prepared. The Sirma were a tribal people, and far better suited for such a task than most of those living in Arendelle. It wasn't unthinkable.

He looked over to the occupied bed, where the Queen of Arendelle slept deeply with her younger sister tucked against her side. He'd had to remind himself a couple of times during their earlier discussions about just _who_ it was he was talking to. There were times it was easy to forget the amount of power held within the woman, and other times it was difficult to remember that she was a normal human, with the same fears and insecurities as everyone else. Well, as normal as a Queen who can shoot ice from her hands could be.

Anna on the other hand, the Crown Princess of Arendelle, was no less complex than her sister, though she was far more open and at ease with herself. He could see Anna – younger sister, Princess of Arendelle – in everything that she did. Unlike her older sister, she didn't seem to feel a need to hide any particular aspect of herself from the world. She had been the same way when she visited Valle as a child, and though Alarik could see she had matured with age and experience, he was happy to see that part of her had not changed.

Alarik dragged a hand down his face, considering attempting to get more sleep, when a knock on the door echoed through the otherwise silent room. Elsa groaned at the intrusion of the sound, her face scrunching up as she shifted under the covers, before smoothing out once more into sleep. He quickly rose to answer the door before a second knock woke her fully.

He hesitated at the door. He didn't know exactly what time it was, but he knew it was very late, and he couldn't think of any reason someone would be calling on them at this hour. Alarik grabbed his sword, not wanting to be caught off-guard. When he cracked the door open, he was greeted with a familiar, unexpected face. "Aaren?"

The man smiled widely. He had been one of three soldiers who had come out into the woods for him at Anna's request. But Alarik knew him from before, when they fought together in the war, some of the lucky few to make it back home. Afterward, Aaren chose to stay in Valle rather than move south when the opportunity presented itself.

"Hey," Aaren said in a soft voice, mindful of the dark, quiet night. "I was hoping I could drag you out into the bitter cold to share in my misery as I patrol."

Alarik snorted softly, stepping out into the cold hallway and closing the door carefully behind him. He folded his arms across his chest in an effort to stave off the chill. "Well, you drive such a hard bargain."

"I have mead," Aaren said brightly, holding up two bottles. "It's the good stuff, too. Nabbed it from the commander's stash."

Alarik narrowed his gaze at the bottle, remembering times in the past when they had done the same, and then remembering the amount of trouble they got into for it. He glanced back at the closed door. There had not been so much as a hint of trouble since they entered the fort, and this was the first time since they arrived that anyone had even come to them. He decided he would keep it short – just a quick walk. Maybe it would help clear his mind and allow him to get some sleep. Besides, it might be helpful to ask someone living in Sioaskard what was going on. He sighed. "Let me grab my coat so I don't freeze to death."

He slipped back in the room, laying his sword against the wall as he picked up his coat. He heard something shifting on the bed behind him and turned to find Elsa digging her knuckles against her eyes. _Light sleeper,_ he noted.

"Alarik?" she asked, sleep slurring her voice. "Is everything okay?" She blinked at him, dropping her hand back to the bed.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied softly. "I'm just going to step out for a bit. I'll be back shortly."

Elsa frowned at him but nodded. She settled back against her pillow, yawning widely as she tucked her sister in a little closer. She quickly relaxed as she fell easily back into sleep.

Alarik slipped on his coat and tied his sheath to his belt, slipping the sword into place. He stepped back outside and shut the door quietly behind him, then reached out to grab the bottle from Aaren. "If you get in trouble with the commander, I'm not saving your hide this time."

The man laughed as he led the way down the hall and into the fort's large courtyard. The snow was still coming down in thick, fluffy flakes. Aaren directed Alarik toward the stairs that led to the fort's high exterior walls. The walk was filled with the easy conversation of two old friends catching up. It wasn't until they reached the first watch tower that Aaren stopped.

He turned to Alarik. "Hey, can I ask you a question?"

He shrugged, drinking from his bottle. "Sure." The dark, snowy world shifted lazily around him, and his lips tingled, slightly numb. Alarik looked down at the bottle of mead, wondering with muted embarrassment when he became such a lightweight.

"How did _you_ manage to end up all the way up here lost in the woods—"

"I was not lost," Alarik insisted.

"Sure," Aaren ceded. "But in the company of the Queen and her sister?"

Alarik's gut twisted at the other man's words, and he debated how to answer. He could deny it outright, but Aaren had never been a dumb kid. "How'd you know?" he asked.

Aaren rolled his eyes. "Please. I'm nowhere near as dumb as Knut. Just because he didn't want to believe the princess when she told him who they were doesn't mean the rest of us were blind enough to think the same."

"The rest?" Alarik cast a wide-eyed glance back toward the courtyard. "How many know?"

Aaren shrugged. "I'm sure a decent amount have heard about it by now, though only the handful who saw her know she's here. So, maybe no more than four. And, of course, the commander. Everyone else just thinks it's one of those rumors, since not many have seen her, and you'd expect a little more fanfare for the Queen."

Alarik frowned, feeling ill at ease. If the commander knew Elsa was here, then why were they still being lodged in a tiny room? Why hadn't the commander come down to meet with her, as would be expected? It didn't matter how humble she was or what she was there for, when the ruling monarch came to visit, you didn't ignore them or pretend they weren't there. He knew Commander Lee to be far smarter than that.

He thought back to the falsified reports, the Sirma encampment, and suddenly he was filled with dread. "I should head back," Alarik said, keeping his voice calm and even. As he turned on his heel, the world tilted roughly to the side, and he tipped with it.

A strong hand caught him, steadying him. Alarik looked down at the drink in his hand then raised his questioning gaze to Aaren.

"Look," his old friend said, "you saved my life back in the war. I'm really sorry."

Alarik tried to push away from the other man, but his legs had turned to jelly. "What did you do?" he asked in a harsh whisper.

"Consider us even now."

It was the last thing Alarik heard before a rush of black came up to meet him.


	13. Chapter 13

Elsa snapped awake but laid still, her gaze sliding around the dark room as she attempted to discern what had ripped her so suddenly from sleep. At her side, her sister was still sleeping peacefully, Anna's mouth hanging partly open and leaking a line of drool onto Elsa's shoulder. _Gross_ , she thought, with a twinge of amusement, before returning her attention to their surroundings. Her chest tightened, causing her breath to hitch; _something_ had woken her. Something was wrong. Careful not to wake Anna, she slipped out from the covers, turning to plant her bare feet on the cold stone floor. She felt better – surprisingly so, almost back to normal. But she had also felt much the same both times she had managed to get some rest before, only to feel her regained energy slip from her like water through a sieve.

Elsa searched the surrounding darkness for her boots, turning to look once more at her sister, who snorted and rolled onto her back, letting loose an impressive snore. She winced but had to smile. _The picture of a princess._ She gave up the search for her boots, she didn't need them; she would just peek into the hall to make sure nothing was wrong. Anna would be fine for a few moments.

She walked to the door and opened it quietly, poking her head out to survey the hallway. There was nothing obviously amiss, and Elsa was in the motion of stepping out into the hall when two men emerged from one of the rooms farther down. She frowned, wondering what a pair of soldiers was doing up and about at this late hour. The men ducked into the next room, like they were searching for something, or someone. As they disappeared through the doorway, Elsa's eyes, now better adjusted to the heavy darkness, took note of their clothing, which was not that of the Sioaskard soldiers. _Sirma,_ she realized, heart thudding.

She quickly ducked back into the room, taking care to shut the door as quietly possible. The Northmen were still a few doors down, and if they continued to search the rooms along the hall one at a time, there were a few minutes, maybe ten, before their search brought them here. Elsa rushed to her sister's side. "Anna," she whispered harshly, shaking the young girl.

Anna groaned, a hand emerging from the blankets to rub tiredly at her eyes. "Elsa?" she mumbled sleepily, frowning. "Wha—"

"Get up." Elsa looked around the room for their third companion, then remembered that he had stepped out at some point earlier in the night. "Damn it," she swore under her breath as worry for Alarik filled her gut.

Hearing her sister's whispered curse had Anna waking quicker than the previous urgency in Elsa's voice ever could. Elsa did not swear; in fact, this was only the second time Anna had ever heard her do so, and both instances had occurred in the last forty-eight hours. "Elsa," she said, worry in her tone, "what's going on."

"There are Northmen in the fort," Elsa replied in another urgent whisper. "They're searching rooms just down the hall." She looked around the room for any sort of way out, but there weren't even windows much less a second door. Which meant the only way out was going to be through the Northmen.

"Wait, what?" Anna bolted upright. "Are you sure?"

Elsa didn't bother to answer, just shot her sister a look that told her everything she needed to know.

"Right." Anna immediately got to work pulling on her shoes and gathering up her coat.

"I don't think there is any way to sneak past them, but it looked like there were only two."

"We've dealt with that before," Anna said encouragingly. Already, she knew they had no other choice than surrender, and that wasn't an option.

Elsa pressed her lips into a tight line. Clearly, she wasn't happy with that thought any more than Anna was.

Anna scouted the dark room for something she could use as a weapon, anything that might keep her sister from having to use her magic. She spotted a pan near the fireplace, one often used for heating up the bed before going to sleep. She grabbed it and moved toward the door as footsteps echoed loudly down the hall.

"What are you going to do with that?" Elsa whispered harshly from where she stood next to the bed.

Before she could respond the door flew open, and Anna swung the pan as hard as she could into the face of large man as he entered the room. He fell backwards into his companion, just as a shot of ice skimmed past Anna to slam into something in the hallway that she couldn't see.

She turned to look worriedly at her sister, but Elsa seemed fine for the moment. Of course, she had also seemed _fine_ before, after getting some sleep, just to leave Anna to watch helplessly as her sister's renewed energy seemed to slip away like a water through a sieve.

"Anna, are you crazy?" Elsa whisper-shouted. "A frying pan? Really?"

Anna shrugged, inspecting her weapon of choice. "Actually, it's a bed warmer," she said, wincing at the dent in the pan and dropping it to the floor.

Elsa rolled her eyes, not nearly as amused. "We need to get out of here. I highly doubt they are alone."

Anna nodded, pausing over the unconscious Sirma to relieve him of a short sword. She straightened, frowning at the otherwise empty room. "Where's Alarik?"

Elsa raised her eyebrows at the sword in Anna's hand but made no comment about it. "I don't know. When I woke earlier, he said he was going to step out for a bit, but I don't know how long ago that was or where he went."

"We can't leave him here."

"The Sirma aren't after him," Elsa countered quietly, "and it's doubtful they would bother trying to use him as leverage. Honestly, he's probably safer not being with us." She chewed her lip, then added, "that doesn't mean we won't try to find him, but I don't know the layout of this fort, and trying to get out is going to be hard enough."

"But it's _your_ fort," Anna said, unable to help herself when the opportunity arose to poke at her sister. Or maybe it was just the fear and stress that pushed the words out. "I would expect you to know everything about it."

Elsa looked at her, face expressionless. "You're hilarious."

Anna smiled. "So, what's the plan?"

Elsa's brow furrowed as she looked toward the hallway. "I don't think going to any of the soldiers here will be an option. We still don't know who we can trust, and _someone_ obviously let the Sirma into the fort. If they had forced their way in, we would have heard the warning bells."

Anna followed her sister's gaze. "Is it possible they . . . stopped the gate guards before they could sound the alarm?"

"Maybe, but that's not a chance I'm willing to take. Not with everything else going on."

Anna nodded. "Okay, so getting help from anyone here is out."

Her sister nodded thoughtfully. "If we can make it into the woods, maybe we can hold out until Captain Jogeir arrives."

" _If_ he arrives."

Elsa tilted her head. " _That_ is a chance we may just have to take. At the very least, if the Northmen are occupied with their search here, it may be easier to head down to Valle without too much trouble."

Anna nodded along but felt conflicted. It didn't feel right to leave Alarik behind and she wanted to argue that they find him, especially since they didn't know what might happen to him if they left without him, but two things were stopping her. Her sister was right – the Sirma were not after Alarik, and they had no idea where in such a large fortress he might be. Finding him could take a long time, longer than they had to risk. The second issue was that the Sirma _were_ after Elsa, which meant that she needed to put as much distance between them as she could and the faster that happened, the better.

A question suddenly struck Anna: what, or perhaps who, was she willing to sacrifice for her sister? She didn't like the thought any more than she wanted to answer it. She didn't need to.

Elsa led the way into the hallway, stepping over the men crumpled on the ground and looking up and down the hallway. She turned to Anna looking with an expression somewhere between irritated and embarrassed. "I, uh... my memory of our arrival here is a bit spotty."

Anna brushed aside her dark thoughts and snorted mirthlessly. "Really? Shocker."

Elsa shot her a dirty look but made no other comment.

"The courtyard is that way," Anna said, gesturing to the left. "Which might be the easiest way out, but also the easiest way to be spotted." Elsa started down the hall toward the courtyard and Anna moved to follow, only to stop short, raising her eyebrows. "Elsa, where are your shoes?" she asked looking at her sister's bare feet.

"The boots are too loud," Elsa replied, "and the cold doesn't bother me."

"That doesn't mean you can't get sick." Anna was suddenly glad for her soft-soled boots, which were far quieter against the stone floor. "And what if you step on something sharp?"

"Not our biggest concern right now." Elsa continued down the hall, and Anna followed. The pair moved almost soundlessly.

"It is if you can't walk," Anna pressed, wrinkling her nose. A peculiar sound from behind them caught her attention, and she pushed her sister toward the opposite wall just as an arrow split the air between them.

Elsa whipped around and threw out her hand. A blast of ice ripped along the hallway, creating a wall of ice between them and the Northmen. The cuff on her wrist flared to life as she used the wall to push the Northmen back down the hallway.

Anna took note of her sister's tightly pinched face and reached out to grab Elsa's left arm, interrupting the flow of magic. "That's good enough."

"Yeah." Elsa lowered her arm and blinked, as she tried to catch her breath. "Come on."

They moved silently through the hall. Anna sighed a breath of relief when she spotted the door that led to the courtyard. Once they made it there, it would be far easier to get out of the fort. She couldn't help worrying about where Alarik could be in this mess. Wherever it was, she hoped he was all right.

Elsa opened the door and looked outside before quickly drawing herself back into the hallway.

Anna looked from the door to her sister, confused. "What's wrong."

"Tyr," she said wearily. "Along with Erik, and a number of other Sirma."

"So, the courtyard is out." Anna twisted her hands nervously in front of her. There _had_ to be a way out of this; she refused to believe they were trapped. Then she remembered something. "Alarik mentioned there were tunnels in the fort that led to the outside," she said. "If we can find one of them. . ."

" _If_ being the important word," Elsa countered. "But maybe we can also find our wayward friend along the way." So obviously Anna wasn't the only one thinking of Alarik.

Anna followed her sister's gaze as Elsa turned to look back the way they came, to the ice wall. "Which means going back that way," she said slowly.

Elsa chewed on her lower lip then took a deep breath. "Okay. Give me a moment." She extended her hand toward the ice wall, and the cuff glowed brightly in response. It felt like forever but was probably only a short moment before the wall of ice shifted, bending around the two Northmen and trapping them against the wall before they had a chance to move. The result was an opening just wide enough for the sisters to pass through.

Elsa pressed a hand to her forehead as she sagged against the wall. Anna quickly adjusted her grip on her sword, grabbing Elsa's arm with her other hand, prepared for if her sister fell. She looked at the older woman worriedly. After only a moment, Elsa moved to shove up to her feet, bracing a hand against the wall and stumbling forward. Anna wanted to stop her sister and make her rest, but she knew they didn't have that luxury right now.

"Excuse us," Anna said as they skimmed past the two Sirma trapped behind the ice. She could hear them beating against the wall, but there wasn't enough room for them to hit the ice hard enough to break it.

They walked in silence, turning corner after corner and peering into rooms as they passed, in the hopes of finding either a passageway or Alarik. Anna didn't know how long they had been walking when Elsa stumbled, catching herself on the wall.

"Are you okay?" Anna asked, her hands hovering around her sister's bowed back.

"I'm fine," Elsa insisted. "Though I would be better if people weren't trying to kill us."

"Technically they want to capture you, not murder you."

"I'd prefer they were trying to murder me."

They followed the corridor to the end, only to turn the corner and find themselves confronted with a thick ice wall, and two Sirma pounding against the ice, trying to break through.

"Well, that's great," Elsa muttered under her breath. "This place is like a Mobius strip."

"A what?"

Elsa opened her mouth but just shook her head. "It's a mathematics thing."

"Gross." Anna turned to peer down each hallway that branched off from where they stood. "At this rate, we're never going to find a way out. There has to be a better way to do this."

Elsa followed her gaze down each hallway before giving a curt nod and pulling her shoulders back. "Okay. I have an idea, but I need you to keep an eye out."

"Keep an eye out?" Anna didn't like the sound of that at all. "Wait, what are you planning?"

"I'm going to find a passageway," her sister responded cryptically. Elsa shook her arms out, dropped her chin and closed her eyes. Almost immediately, the stone in the cuff flared to life as ice formed under Elsa's feet. The ice began to snake its way down each hallway, frosted pieces branching off into rooms as it went, leaving a trail along the stone in its wake.

Anna watched as Elsa's face pinched tightly in pain. She was just about to intercede when her sister's expression unexpectedly smoothed out, her posture relaxing. She looked to where the cuff encircled her sister's wrist and was surprised to see the stone still glowing brightly, which meant it was absorbing Elsa's power. But Elsa seemed perfectly relaxed and calm. Anna had no idea what that meant, nor how she should feel about it, but she preferred it over the obvious pain her sister had been in before.

Anna hefted the sword in her hand, pulling her gaze from her sister to do what she was supposed to be doing, which was keeping watch. She looked around the hallway, but except for the occasional crackle of shifting ice, the area was quiet.

After what felt like an eternity, and very well might have been, her sister spoke. "Found one." Elsa's voice as calm as her stance.

When Elsa didn't move, or release the ice, Anna put a cautious hand on her arm. "Elsa?"

Her sister jerked, her eyes flying open, a soft groan slipped out and Elsa's knees buckled without warning, Anna dropped her sword, reaching out to grab her before she could fall, then lowered her carefully to the ground. Her sister was breathing heavily, and Anna could feel the tremors moving through her right arm, though they didn't seem anywhere near as bad as they had been in the woods.

Anna wrapped one arm around her sister's chest, keeping her from tipping to far forward and the other around her back. He heart thudded painfully as she watched her sister.

for the briefest moment Anna thought she saw a glint in her sister's eyes, like they were glowing a bright silver, but then the next second it was gone. She shook her head, telling herself that it had to have been a trick of the light, or her stressed mind. At the same time, she realized that her sister had used more magic in the course of last few days than she had seen Elsa use over the last several months. And then there was the cuff which they had theories on what it was doing but nothing concrete. Anna's stomach tightened painfully at the thought that it was possible the cuff was doing more to her sister then they originally thought, that it could be changing something in her.

Anna bit her lower lip, it might not be something that was a caused for immediate concern, but she for sure made a mental note of it.

Elsa was still barely holding herself up, needing the support of her, and her palm remained pressed against her forehead.

"Hey, you okay?" Anna asked, even though she already knew what her sister's answer would be.

"I'm fine."

"Sure." Anna looked to the trail of ice leading down the hallway, noting with interest that the various branches were now gone, leaving a single path. She tightened her grip on her sister's arm, concerned about the sudden heat radiating off her. Except for a bright flush in her cheeks, Elsa's face was ghostly white, and she looked like she was about to fall over. "While that was probably one of the coolest things, no pun intended, I have seen you do, I think you should refrain from using any more magic, until we get that cuff off. Also, what did you do?" She held up a hand, god she had so many questions. "You can tell me later, when we're safe . . . or at least safer."

Elsa nodded. She braced a hand against the wall and pushed off, teetering to the side before steadying herself. "Let's go."

* * *

Elsa closed her eyes as she rested her forehead against her clasped hands, her elbows braced on her tented knees. She sat on the cold stone floor of the passageway they had found after following her ice trail here. At first glance, the ice had stopped at a spot that appeared to be nothing more than an unremarkable section of wall, looking just like every other they had passed by. It was an interesting twist, the entrance hidden in plain sight rather than behind a tapestry or some other decoration, like one would expect. At least, like one who grew up in a castle full of secret passages would expect. Maybe that had been their failing.

Once the sisters got the section of wall opened, Elsa melted the trail of ice that led here, and they slipped into the passageway and slid the door shut behind them. Anna had thought quickly enough to grab a lantern from the previous hallway, far from the entrance. She used the light to lead the way along the passage, but stopped after only a few minutes, stating that they had gone far enough and needed to regroup and rest. She'd all but forced her sister onto the ground, thought Elsa didn't resist in the least, then said that she was going to scout down a little farther and try to see how far the tunnel went, maybe figure out where it ended beyond the fort.

Elsa wanted to protest – she really did, not liking the idea of splitting up from her sister for even a few minutes, but it would be useful to know how far they still had to go. And as much as she loathed to admit it, the stunt she pulled with the ice trail had her thinking that sitting down for a moment was a great idea. Perhaps Anna was right, and she should try to refrain from any more magic for the time being. Even if her power was their best line of defense, and offense.

She dropped her hands to fold over her knees, and lowered her head along with them, until her forehead was resting against her folded arms. Elsa drew her legs in closer, making herself small, feeling overwhelmed by everything that had happened, that was still happening. Things had just barely started to settle down in Arendelle and now here she was, her magic placing her sister in danger, placing her people in danger. It was too much, too soon, and she couldn't keep up with it. A lump formed in her throat and she swallowed painfully against it, forcing the urge to cry away. She couldn't lose it. Not here, when her sister needed her to be strong. She took a deep breath and released it out slowly, repeating the process a few more times until her frayed nerves calmed a fraction.

"Elsa?"

A hand on Elsa's shoulder startled her. She jumped, her head snapping up.

"Easy," her sister said calmly, holding her hands up. "It's just me."

"Sorry," she muttered, rubbing her palms against her face, hoping to erase all evidence of her near breakdown.

"How, uh, how are you doing?" Anna asked, kneeling next to her. She immediately threw a hand up. "If you say you're fine, I will . . . do something, and it won't be pleasant. So, you know, don't."

Elsa chuckled. "Tired?" she offered with a shrug, knowing it was the next easiest answer.

Anna pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, worrying it as her gaze shifted from Elsa's face down to the cuff around her wrist and back again. "You sure? Nothing—" she rolled her hand in the air as she searched for the right word - "weird? Like with the cuff or your magic?"

Elsa narrowed her gaze at her sister, studying Anna's face before slowly answering, "no." Her sister didn't look in the least bit convinced. In fact, she looked like she knew something Elsa didn't. "Why?" she asked. "Should there be?"

"No," Anna answered quickly, then tilted her head. "Well, maybe? I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"Okay," her sister said, releasing a long, harsh breath. "It's just when you did the ice path thing, everything was normal – well, not _normal_ normal, but like last three days normal, God, has it really been only been three days—"

"Anna," Elsa said sharply, hoping to steer her sister back on track. "Drop your anchor."

"Right." Anna took a breath before starting again. "Ever since that stupid cuff, every time you have used you magic, you've seemed tense, and in a...in a lot of pain."

Elsa winced, unconsciously rubbing her right arm. "Okay," she said, not wanting to confirm or deny her sister's words.

"When you did ice path thing, the same thing happened. But then after a few seconds you...I don't know, relaxed?" Anna shifted uncomfortably against the stone wall. "Seemed really calm? Which I totally prefer over you being in pain, but it was like you were in a trance, and—" Anna clasped her hands in front of her. "I'm worried that maybe the cuff is doing more to you then we thought. That it might be changing something in you, with your magic."

Elsa absorbed her sister's words as she looked down at the cuff, thinking back on what she had felt when she last used her magic. She was surprised to find she didn't actually remember any specifics, just feelings and impressions. The flow of her magic being divided, some stolen away by the cuff, and a shooting pain down her right arm before it faded into the background. After that, there had been nothing but ice, and calm. For the first time since she built the ice palace on the North Mountain, the magic had felt like more than a mere tool to be wielded, but an extension of her very core.

At least, it had until Anna called to her, and then the pain that had been buzzing in the background slammed back to the foreground with such force Elsa was left dizzy and disoriented for much longer than she had liked.

Anna leaned forward and wrapped her fingers around Elsa's arm, her eyes brimming with a painful amount of concern. "Elsa?"

Elsa shook the thoughts free turning her attention back to her sister. "It's not."

Her sister pressed her lips into a thin line. "Elsa, I think it might be. Your ey—"

"I said it's not," she interrupted. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate her sister's worries, but because she knew her sister was wrong. Elsa knew it with the very fabric of her being, and even her magic knew it. "The cuff isn't altering anything. My magic is my own. The only thing it's doing is absorbing my magic. Nothing more."

Her sister looked less then convinced, and some part of her didn't blame her, her sister knew next to nothing about her magic, not that Elsa herself knew that much about it either, she was just sort of making things up as they went. Maybe once they got out of this, she'd spend a week in the ice palace, getting more familiar with this power she had attempted to suppress for thirteen years.

Anna frowned and opened her mouth, looking like she was ramping up to continue the argument.

Elsa beat her to it, shutting down the conversation before they could go another round. "What did you find?"

Anna's brows drew together in confusion. "What?"

Elsa jerked her chin in the direction Anna had returned from. "The tunnel? What did you find?"

"Oh." Her sister looked over her shoulder and rested her weight on her heels. "It leads directly under the courtyard. There are a few grates in the ceiling, or I guess the ground of the courtyard. I think it's used as a drainage tunnel to keep the fort from flooding during heavy rain or snow."

"Did you find the exit?"

"Yes and no?"

Elsa wrinkled her nose. "That's not a question you generally answer with another question."

Anna smiled and tugged at the hem of her sleeve. "I found a ladder leading to a trap door that opens up behind the stables. Problem is, that's still in the courtyard. I, uh, I couldn't see anyone, but I could still hear Tyr."

Just hearing his name made Elsa tense. "And?"

"And he sounded _really_ unhappy that they haven't found you yet."

"I'm sorry to disappoint him," Elsa said. "Did the passage lead anywhere else?"

Anna nodded. "It led further down so I followed it for a bit, but it goes on for a while and I didn't want to leave you here alone that long. But if it's used as a drainage tunnel, then it has to let out somewhere, eventually."

"Well," Elsa said, considering, "between our options of returning to the hallway where we know the Sirma are and following this passage in the hopes of finding a safe exit, I think our chances are better with the passage."

"That's what I was thinking." Anna stood, holding out a hand to Elsa.

She used her sister to hoist herself to her feet, then gestured toward the dark tunnel. "Lead the way."

Elsa wrapped her arms around herself as she walked quietly alongside her sister. The passageway was silent except for their footsteps, and the occasional muted yell or other noise that filtered through the drains and thinner parts of the walls as the Sirma continued their search of Sioaskard. By her estimate, about an hour had passed since they woke up, so the Sirma had been in the fort at least that long. She wondered at what point would they give up the search, and what would Tyr do then. It was clear to her that he wouldn't just go home. Perhaps he'd try to hold the fort and establish some sort of beachhead.

She didn't have to wait long before she got her answer. They had just passed a drain and ladder that connected to the courtyard, the one Anna had found on her survey of the passageway, when Tyr's booming voice echoed through the fort.

There was a shout, yelling from the courtyard. 

Elsa tensed. For a brief moment, she worried that they had been spotted but quickly realized that the Northmen still had no idea where she nor her sister were.

"As much as I enjoy a good game of cat and mouse," Tyr continued, "I suggest you come out now, or I will start killing any soldier I find, one by one. When I run out of soldiers, if you still haven't shown yourself, then I will begin to burn everything between here and Arendelle. If you doubt my words, then I am more than willing to show you my commitment."

Elsa pressed her lips into a thin line. She had spent her whole life learning how to be a ruler and one of the more important lessons her father taught her was reading people, how to figure out who was bluffing and who was not. It had been a vital part of her training, and she didn't believe for a moment that Tyr was bluffing, that he wouldn't do exactly what he was promising. Elsa looked over her shoulder to the ladder that led up to the courtyard and, without meeting her sister's eyes, turned toward it.

Anna grabbed her arm and yanked her back a step. "Please tell me you aren't considering going out there?" she whispered harshly.

Elsa shifted her shoulders but didn't pull away. "Anna, he is threatening to burn this fort and the kingdom if I don't."

"He's bluffing."

"You don't know that. Their people are being killed. It is desperation that brought them this far, that drove them to risk war with us. There is no reason to believe it won't push them even further."

"Even if he isn't, he won't get far." Anna's fingers tightened almost painfully around Elsa's arm. "The military will stop him."

"Anna." Elsa's tone softened. She understood her sister's concern, but there was no room for it here. "The bulk of Arendelle's military is in its navy, which is at sea miles away from here. How long do you think it would take to dispatch enough men here, while the Sirma lay waste to the area? How many lives do you think would be lost in the crossfire?"

Anna pulled her closer, wrapping her free hand around Elsa's other arm. "Have you lost your mind?" she demanded, voice rising. "Elsa, he wants to use you as a weapon in his war. _War_ , Elsa. That means even if he keeps his end of whatever agreement you make with him, you could still be killed in the fighting. There's a better chance of you never coming back than there is of you surviving this. You _have_ to see that."

Elsa gently extracted her sister's hands from her arms and held them between her own, her chest tightening painfully. She had never been on a battlefield before, but she knew what it would mean if she was forced to fight in the Sirma's war. The very thought of it made her sick to her stomach. No matter what she decided here, her hands were going to be bloodied. It was both an impossible decision, and an easy one. "Anna," she told her sister, "through my own mistakes, I already have the blood of two people on my hands, and it is nothing short of a miracle that you are alive. I thank whichever gods will listen for that every day, but I will not bear the blood of anymore of Arendelle's citizen on my hands."

"What?" Anna blinked at her a few times, "Asia? This is about—Elsa . . . Elsa, please don't do this. Captain Jogeir will be here in the morning. We can hold out for him."

"Anna, I can't trade the lives of a hundred soldiers, loyal or not, for my own life." Elsa looked down the passageway then turned to Anna, determined. "You need to leave."

Her sister recoiled. "Excuse me?"

"You need to leave," she repeated. "Find a place to hide and stay there until Jogeir arrives."

"You're joking, right?" Anna shook her head.

"No, Anna—"

"No," her sister said firmly. "I'm not leaving you. I'm not going to let you throw yourself into the line of fire because of some – some misplaced martyr syndrome you seem to harbor."

Elsa squeezed Anna's hands, desperate for her sister to understand why she had to do this alone. "Anna, I need you to be safe. I can't lose you."

Anna lifted a shoulder. "And what about me? I need my big sister. I need _you_ to be safe as well." She pursed her lips. "So, whatever plan you are thinking up, it's just going to have to involve both of us."

Elsa's heart sank at the pain she could see she was causing her sister but tried once more to make her see reason. "Anna—"

"No." Anna stomped a foot. "I'm not going anywhere. Deal with it. Someone has to protect you from yourself."

Elsa sighed. "You are incurably stubborn."

"Learned it from the best."

She deflated, her shoulders slumping as a wave of weariness came over her. She knew she had lost this argument. "I don't—" Elsa closed her eyes, blocking out Anna's face. There had to be a way to get her sister away from here. She considered blocking Anna's path with a wall of ice but knew there was little chance of catching her sister off-guard, and she honestly doubted that she would be even fast enough to try right now.

Anna tugged lightly on her clasped hands. "What's the plan?"

Elsa took a deep breath then opened her eyes and peered over her shoulder. "You said that ladder leads to behind the stables?"

"Yeah."

"Could we get up there without being seen?"

Anna scrunched up her face, nodded. "Maybe. As long as Tyr and his people haven't moved, the stable should be between them and us."

A few short minutes found themselves crouched behind the stables. Anna had insisted on going up the ladder first, most likely worried that Elsa would freeze the trap door shut behind her and prevent her sister from following. In truth, the thought had crossed her mind.

Elsa peeked cautiously around the stable to where Tyr stood with Erik and a group of men. Even from this distance, she could tell that he was furious. She turned to her sister. "Stay here."

"What?" Anna looked exasperated. "We just had this conv—"

"I know," Elsa said. "But they only want me, and there is no reason to expose the both of us. There is still a chance that we can talk our way out of this." Even as she said it, she wasn't sure who she was trying to convince. Likely Anna, because Elsa herself was positive that Tyr wouldn't settle for anything less than what he came for. Her. "You'll be right here in case anything happens."

"Elsa—"

"Anna," she snapped in a harsh whisper. "For once in your life, please just do as you are told." Her tone was sharper than she meant it to be, but she was tired, scared, and so very desperate to protect her little sister.

"Be careful." Anna said, the hurt clear on her face. "And don't think for a second I won't come out there if I see anything shady."

Elsa placed a hand against the side of her sister's neck and pulled her forward to plant a kiss on her forehead. Without hesitation, she pushed up from the ground and walked around the stable out into the open.

"Ah, Your Majesty." Tyr stepped forward, away from the group of men. "So nice of you to _finally_ join us."

Elsa quickly swept the courtyard with her gaze, getting a better idea of her position. Tyr stood roughly fifteen feet away, with his brother Erik to his right, and a handful of armed Northmen just behind him. The entrance to the fort was farther away than she had hoped. She weighed her options, knowing she could use her magic, but she would likely only have one chance. Even if she took out Tyr, their leader, there was no way of knowing if Erik and the rest of the Northmen would retreat.

"Nothing to say?" Tyr asked, hooking his thumbs into his belt. He cocked his head, dropping his gaze to Elsa's right wrist, and she resisted the urge to cover the cuff encircled there. "Well, I have to say, Your Majesty, I am impressed that you have been able to use your magic, despite the cuff. Though you are wearing only one, I have never seen anyone still capable of magic."

Elsa frowned, thinking first, _they have experience with magic users._ Then _, I'm not alone._ Her heart thumped, and she wanted to ask what he meant, but she knew now wasn't the time. If she was going to get her and her sister through this, she had to keep her cards close to her chest. She forced herself to focus on the other important thing Tyr had said. _Only one cuff._ That was why it wasn't working correctly; there were supposed to be two. She finally took note of the item Erik was holding in his hand, something that looked suspiciously like a second cuff. "Tyr," she said, "I will give you and your men one last chance to vacate this fort and leave Arendelle unharmed."

Tyr let out a bellowing laugh and lifted his arm, the one she had shredded when she lost control of her magic in the longhouse. The limb was wrapped from just below his hand all the way to his elbow, and even from this distance she could see the blood spotting the wrapping. Elsa swallowed thickly, trying not to remember the sight, the feeling as her ice tore through his flesh.

"Does this look unharmed to you?" he spat. "What about the solders you killed? Three men in the longhouse and four more in the woods. That man you speared through the arm? He'll probably never use his hand again."

Elsa forced herself to keep a neutral expression, to not allow his words to affect her. She could think about what she had done later. "I told you that if you forced me to use my magic there would be no going back. Any causalities suffered were of your own doing."

Tyr nodded, rubbing a hand across his chin. "All right then. How about this? You surrender." He waved to Erik, who stepped forward, fidgeting with the second cuff. "Come with us peacefully," he continued, signaling to another man behind him who lit an arrow before notching it. "And I won't burn down the barracks with the Sioaskard soldiers inside."

Elsa's eyes widened as she turned to look across the courtyard. The wooden roof and stone walls of the barracks jutted out from the wall of the fort. A long slab of wood had been placed across the door, locking it from the outside. Even as her breath caught her chest at the implication, she realized that was why she and Anna hadn't seen any of the soldiers as they made their way through the fort. Or Alarik. _No._ The windows of the barracks were dark, and curiously, there seemed to be no sign of movements from inside. She turned a narrowed gaze back to Tyr. "What did you do?"

"Nothing," he replied. "I just ensured they'd sleep through the night. I would hate for our business to disturb them."

 _Drugged_ , Elsa realized, drawing a deep breath. Her gaze shifted from Tyr to the archer and back again. She couldn't stall, there was no point in it, no one would be here in time. When she had hesitated in the longhouse, Tyr had almost killed Alarik. There was no doubt in her mind that he would burn the whole fort down to get what he wanted. She balled her hands into fists, seeing no other options, but she had already known how this was going to end. "Fine," she said, her heart thumping painfully in her chest.

Tyr's eyebrows shot up. "Glad you finally see reason." He nodded curtly to Erik, who walked forward.

Elsa forced herself to stand still as the man approached, despite everything in her screamed to attack or run.

Erik held up a hand, much like one would calm a cornered animal. "I'm sorry, Your Majesty," he said softly, so that only she could hear.

Her chest tightened painfully, and she was suddenly finding it hard to breath as Erik, holding a cuff that matched the one she already wore, gestured to her left hand. She hesitated, knowing that there would be no going back if she allowed him to put the cuff on. This was a point of no return, but she wouldn't allow Tyr to kill her soldiers, and she didn't have the energy needed to stop all the Northmen in one strike.

Elsa closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, she raised her left hand, thankful that it seemed to be steadier than the thumping of her heart. Erik wrapped his fingers around her hand and placed the cuff on her arm, enclosing the band around her wrist. The stone on the second cuff glowed brightly as the seam in the band disappeared, leaving behind a single piece of metal. She watched as the stone faded into a dull glow that matched the first.

"Huh."

Elsa looked up at Erik and realized he was still holding her hand. He was staring down at the softly glowing stone, his expression a mixture of interest and concern. She wanted to ask what was causing such a look, but instead ripped her hand from his grip, not wanting to give the man the satisfaction of her curiosity. She folded her arms across her chest and leveled a glare.

Erik held his hands up and backed off, returning to his brother's side.

She had expected . . . more when he put the cuff on. Surprisingly, she didn't feel anything different, except that her magic was now being absorbed slowly by either cuff, instead of just one. Elsa turned her attention to Tyr. "Now what?"

He smiled at something over Elsa's shoulder. "Aw, and there is Princess Anna. I'm glad you could join our little party."

 _Anna._ Elsa turned her head, her heart dropping to the ground as her sister quickly covered the distance between them. "Anna," she whispered sharply as the girl reached her side. "What are you doing?"

"What am _I_ doing? What do you think you're doing?" Anna took her hands, looking down at each of Elsa's wrist. "You can't do this."

"I have no choice, Anna."

Her sister's fingers tightened around her hands. "If you think I'm going to let you do this alone, you are sadly mistaken. You _can't_ go with them."

"As touching as this all is," Tyr interrupted them loudly. "We have things to do. Wars to win."

Elsa turned back to him, pulling one hand from Anna's grasp but keeping a tight hold on the girl with the other. "Let my sister go," she said. "And I will come with you quietly."

"Elsa!" Anna jerked her hand.

Elsa ignored her, keeping her gaze fixed on the Sirma leader.

"Mm." He scrunched up his face in thought. "No. I think I'll keep her around, just to make sure you do as you're told. You play your part, and I promise no harm will come to her."

Her hand tightened around her sister's. She squeezed her eyes shut; this is exactly what she had been trying to avoid. The stones on each wrist flared brightly as Elsa's magic reacted to her panic. Pain shot up both arms, colliding in her chest. She took a deep breath, fighting to control her magic and her panic as her mind raced to find a way to get her sister out of this, but she was coming up empty. She had given up their only defense to protect her people.

She turned her cold gaze toward Tyr, fighting to keep her voice as steady as possible despite her nearly suffocating fear. She stepped forward, positioning herself between her sister and the Sirma. "Tyr, I will only say this once. If anything happens to my sister, I _will_ give you a war. I will show you the monster people fear me to be and leave you choking on the ashes of everything you once held."

She felt it as her sister stiffened, distantly wondering what Anna was thinking, as she had never leveled such a severe, heartfelt threat. Elsa didn't look at the girl though, keeping her gaze pinned on Tyr as she waited for him to make the next move. For the briefest moment, she saw a crack in in his mask, then he schooled his expression.

"Well, let us hope it doesn't come to that then." Tyr turned to his men and spoke too low for Elsa to hear.

When two of the Sirma approached, she shifted to block Anna from them.

"I will not hurt your sister," Tyr said as she moved. "My men are simply going to take her to our wagon outside the fort. I promise, you will see her in just a few moments. There is . . . something that you and I still need to discuss first."

Elsa fought to steady her breathing, needing to protect her sister, but was now powerless to do so. She should have known her sister wouldn't stay hidden, should have done something to keep her sister in the passage below. Her only solace was these men wanted to use her magic to win their war, and that meant at some point they were going to have to remove the cuffs. The only way for them to ensure that she didn't turn her magic on them was for them to keep Anna safe. They would not hurt her sister. They couldn't.

She turned to Anna. "It'll be okay," she said, praying to any god who would listen not to make a liar of her. "I promise."

Anna nodded numbly, and Elsa forced herself to hold still as the Sirma relieved her sister of the short sword she still carried and escorted her toward the front of the fort, Erik going along. Elsa didn't like the guy and didn't trust him, but he at least seemed to be marginally more honorable than his older brother. She took some comfort in that.

Some of the other Northmen followed them out, leaving just Elsa, Tyr, and two other Sirma in the courtyard. Tyr stood silently for a long while as heavy snow fell around them. He moved forward, until they were a mere five feet apart. "From one leader to another, I am sure you understand how your actions impact your people. That you alone are responsible for bearing the consequences of the choices you make."

Heart racing, her gaze flicked in the direction they had taken her sister, then back to Tyr.

"I meant what I said," he went on. "No harm will come to your sister. But I want you to know that what happens next is the result or your own actions." He turned and nodded to the archer behind him, who once more lit an arrow and notched it. This time, he fired.

"No," Elsa gasped as the arrow arched over their heads, landing with a hollow _thunk_ on the roof of the barracks. As she watched, the fire rapidly spread across the roof, despite the falling snow. Almost as though someone had poured fuel over it prior to her arrival in the courtyard.

Tyr had planned this, she realized, head spinning. Just like everything else. Elsa felt paralyzed as she watched the flames chew through the roof and drop into the building below. She remembered the conversation she'd had with Anna and Alarik about the possibility of overloading the stones and threw her hands in front of her toward the now burning barracks. If she could do that, she could get her men out of this.

The stones in both cuffs flared to life, the bright light cutting through the dim courtyard. Her magic built, pressing against the cuffs but going no further, like a wall was blocking her from using her power. Pain shot up Elsa's arms but, she refused to back down, allowing herself to sink deeper into her magic the same way she had when searching for the hidden passageway, the same way she had when she made the ice palace.

She could hear voices around her, but her attention was elsewhere. Pain continued to rip through her arms, but soon faded into the background like an incessant buzzing. She felt along the wall blocking her magic looking for any sort of weakness or crack she could exploit. She pressed her magic harder against it, and the wall gave, just a fraction. Then, sharper than the pain, deeper than the voices, and louder than the ringing in her ears, Elsa heard a soft _crack_.

The answering pain that exploded through her right arm was cataclysmic. It sheared its way through her chest and exploded across every nerve ending. Elsa lost her tenuous hold on her magic, the power slipping from her like shards of broken glass. Pain sang out from her knees and she realized she had fallen to the hard ground. The world around her, a dim, snowy courtyard backlit by growing flames, came into focus. She saw that the cuffs on her wrists were still glowing brightly, eating away whatever magic she had built up, the magic she had failed to release. She wrapped her arms around herself and folded forward, riding out the pain still coursing throughout her body.

A rough hand gripped her chin with bruising force and jerked her head up. "An impressive attempt, but if you had only done what you were told in the longhouse, we could have avoided all of this."

She narrowed her gaze at Tyr. "No matter . . . what happens . . . to me," she forced out between her struggles for air, "I promise . . . you, you will not . . . survive this."

A smirk curled Tyr's lip. "I was going to say the same for you. Though if you behave, your sister might."

Spots filled Elsa's vision, and the cuffs continued glowing brightly as she tightened her arms around herself. "Why should I . . . trust you?"

"You shouldn't," he replied honestly. "But I promised my brother that I wouldn't hurt the girl, so long as you don't give me a reason to."

Elsa didn't respond, she'd given up her magic, their only real form of protection for the lives at Sioaskard and now they were dead, her sister being held hostage to force her hand, and Alarik—Tyr's face wavered in front of her as her eyes watered, but she refused to let him see her break.

Tyr released her chin, and she dropped her head to her chest, once more folding forward around the pain reverberating through her whole being. Faintly, she realized that she was shaking but didn't know how to stop and didn't have the energy to try. She heard someone talking, voices over her bowed head, feet shuffling behind her before hands grabbed her arms and yanked her to her feet.

The sudden movement was too much. Elsa's throat clamping shut even as she tried to cry out, and the last thing she saw before a shroud of darkness closed around her was the building still burning across the courtyard.


	14. Chapter 14

Elsa stood in the cove of the dark pebbled beach, feeling faint, distant tremors move through the ground, like a memory. She knew this place; she'd been here many times before. It was a place that only existed in her dreams, a place that had been a source of comfort for as long as she could remember. It was the only place she had ever felt whole, like a person who was more than an heir to the throne, more than the Queen, more than an older sister. More than the snow queen. Here, she was simply Elsa, with no title, no responsibility, and no crushing weight resting atop her shoulders.

Growing up, her visits to this place had always depended on how she was feeling when she went to sleep, most often in relation to her magic. On those times she had felt most at odds with herself or her magic her dreams would lead her here to the dark pebbled beach, with little variations in each visit. Sometimes the sky was clear, oranges and purples melding into each other as dawn broke across the horizon, and the ocean calm, the tide rolling lazily to meet the beach. Other times, clouds dotted the sky and the ocean frothed and foamed beneath, the atmosphere smelling of ozone like the moments after a storm finally broke. Sometimes, it was a combination of the two.

There was always the voice, the familiar tug calling to her from the horizon, promising answers to questions she had never dared to ask aloud. Elsa had tried too many times to answer the call, to follow the pull toward the horizon, but she was always pushed back to the dark pebbled beach as something echoing inside her said, _not yet. You're not ready_. The beach calmed and frustrated her in turns, but without its presence she wasn't sure she would have made it through those long thirteen years of isolation.

This time, something was off. All around Elsa, a dense fog obscured the sky, from horizon to zenith; five feet in every direction, the world dissolved into a churning mass of grey. The normally cool stones of the beach felt uncomfortably warm beneath her bare feet, and there was a burning thickness in the air. It was heavy and oppressive, and hard to breath. It was dark overhead, random flashes breaking through the fog as lightning tore across the sky. Crashes of thunder followed, so loud that she could feel each rumble in the marrow of her bones.

That feeling of wholeness she had always enjoyed here was gone. Instead Elsa felt cracked and bent, with unnamed fragments missing. The siren's song, the tug that always pulled her to toward the horizon, to the unknown, was missing. In its place was a strange, unfamiliar noise. It was barely perceptible, a faint, high-pitched whine that was drowned out by the crashing thunder and roaring sea.

She stumbled through the fog in the direction of the churning ocean. Something told Elsa that if she could just reach the waves, then everything would be okay. The roar of the waves grew louder the closer she got, until the fog parted, and she could see a hazy vision of the ocean. The relief was so strong she was dizzy with it, and she took a step toward the water, only to be shoved back by some invisible force. She tripped and stumbled, catching herself before she could fall.

"Wha—" Elsa reached forward cautiously, fingertips impacting an invisible barrier that scorching beneath her touch. She drew her hands back, her breath quickening as she looked past it to the ocean. She took a step back and extended a hand, intending to shoot a bolt of ice at the barrier.

Nothing happened. In fact, she couldn't even feel her ice.

A small wave crashed a few feet from where she stood, foam climbing the rocky shore only to stop short. Elsa pressed her lips into a thin line and held out both hands, digging down deeper as she attempted to summon any shred of magic. Still, there was nothing. On the other side of the unseen barrier, a wave swelled in response, slamming against the wall.

Elsa jumped, staggering backward until she fell to the ground with a painful thud. The air tightened around her and she pressed a hand to her chest, feeling lightheaded as she struggled to draw breath.

She was trapped. Her _magic_ was trapped.

* * *

Her back ached. Anna knew that, considering everything that was going on, it was a ridiculous thing to complain about, even to herself. But she was sore and stiff from sitting in the same position for the last...well, God only knew how long she had been here. She arched against the wooden slabs, stretching her spine before settling back into a more comfortable position. Her gaze fell to the still figure cradled against her. She had to admit that she had been hoping her movements would wake her sister, but Elsa's face remained smooth and relaxed, her breathing slow and even in sleep.

Anna gripped her sister tighter, resting her cheek against the top of Elsa's head. She tried to draw strength from the her, tried not to think about the absolute mess they were in. She should never have allowed Elsa to confront Tyr; she should have known her sister would surrender herself without a second thought to protect her people. Elsa had already been exhausted after using her magic multiple times, and it would have been a simple matter of blocking her way and not allowing her to go up the ladder. She probably could have just made the woman sit down for a few minutes and waited for her to fall asleep.

Instead, against her better judgement, Anna had stayed back and agreed to let her sister confront Tyr, fully believing that Elsa was capable of talking their way out of this mess. Crouching behind the stables, she couldn't see much, but she heard Tyr's proposal to burn the soldier's barracks. Elsa's response had been too quiet for Anna to hear, and by the time she poked her head around the corner and saw the telltale light emanating from the cuff and realized what was happening, it was already too late. Her sister had surrendered her magic in exchange for the lives of the men at Sioaskard.

When the Sirma approached her, Anna had been terrified. Not for herself or what they would do with her, but for her sister, and what Tyr wanted to _discuss_ with her. She thought about resisting and refusing to leave her sister's side but knew there was nothing to be gained from that. It was more likely she would be killed in the ensuing struggle, and then one way or another Arendelle would be without its Queen. So, Anna had gone with them without a fight, allowed them to escort her to a wagon waiting just outside the gates of the fort. It was a prisoner's wagon, the kind she'd only seen in drawings and paintings. The front wall next to the driver was solid, and on the remaining sides, the planks extended a foot or so. The rest was made up of crossed iron bars that met at the top of a dilapidated but thankfully solid roof. The wagon wasn't tall enough for her to stand, but at least they wouldn't be snowed on. Not directly, anyway.

Despite the fact they had just been trying to kidnap and/or injure Anna and her sister, the Sirma warriors were oddly gentle as they helped her into the wagon. Their treatment was a startling contrast to their leader, who seemed violent and callous. Of course, it could have been because Erik was standing directly behind them the entire time. After the door on the wagon had been shut behind her, Anna sat but kept her gaze glued to the entrance of the fort. Erik remained next to the cart, shifting his weight and looking like he wanted to say something, but each time he opened his mouth he would just sigh, or shake his head and turn away. It felt like an eternity passed before anyone walked out of the fort. At first, all Anna could see was two guards followed by Tyr, and then she realized that one of the guards was carrying her unconscious sister.

Anna's heart slammed against her ribcage as she turned accusing eyes to Erik. She yelled, demanding to know what had happened even though he had been out here with her the entire time. Erik had only shaken his head and joined the approaching group. She was too far away to hear what he was saying to his brother, but she saw Tyr shrug, his face impassive. Anger flushed her cheeks warm, and she focused her attention on her sister as the Sirma brought Elsa to the cart.

A sliver of relief slipped through Anna as she realized she was not going to be separated from her sister like she had feared. They were going to be permitted to ride together, to wherever it was they were going. The man holding Elsa ordered Anna to back up as the other Sirma opened the door to the wagon, and he deposited her sister's limp form just inside the door before locking it again. Anna wanted to yell and scream at them, but was concerned by her unmoving sister.

Anna had slipped an arm under Elsa's shoulders and lifted her from the floor of the wagon, immediately taken aback by the heat radiating from her. Elsa's cheeks were flushed in an otherwise pale face, and her breathing was sharp and shallow. Anna tapped her sister's cheeks, and when that did nothing, she shook Elsa gently, then a little harder, and through it all her sister didn't even so much as twitch. Anna felt dizzy, like she wasn't pulling in enough air. She tried calling her sister's name again, Elsa's pale face wavering as tears filled her eyes. She didn't know what to do, didn't even know what had happened in the fort.

She looked down to the cuffs around both of Elsa's wrists, but other than a muted glow, the metal bands offered up no hints. Anna knew she wouldn't get any sort of answer from Erik, Tyr, or any other Sirma, so she turned to the only other option she had. She scooted toward the front wall of the wagon, leaned back against the solid wood planks, and pulled her sister close. She positioned Elsa's head against her shoulder and waited, trying not to cry, hoping that it was just exhaustion that was keeping her sister from waking and answering her.

Elsa eventually cooled down, until her skin returned to the more familiar warmth it had taken on over the last few days. Her breathing deepened, slowed. She remained in what Anna hoped was a deep slumber, but if nothing else, she appeared more comfortable.

The temperature dropped as they traveled north along the narrow mountain road, the snow continuing to fall in thick, fluffy flakes and sticking to the ground to form a snowy blanket. As the snow fell, Anna was even more thankful that Alarik had found her some warm winter clothing to wear. She was still a bit chilly, but far less so than she would have been in her dress.

Dawn broke across the horizon, shifting the dark night into day and warming the air a fraction. Sometime before noon, the party stopped so the Sirma could tend to their horses. One of the men deposited a hunk of bread, some cheese, and a bit of dried meat through the bars of the wagon. Enough for the two of them. He came and went without word; not that Anna wanted to talk to him, or anyone else, for that matter.

She once more attempted to rouse Elsa so she could eat something, and after a few attempts her sister blinked up her with heavy eyelids. Her first words to ask where her boots were, and that's when Anna realized her sister was more out of it than she was aware.

"You left them in the room," Anna told her softly. "Remember?"

Elsa scrunched up her face, mumbling something too soft and slurred to catch. Anna brushed her sister's bangs from her face and tipped her head a bit, trying to catch her sluggish gaze.

"How are you feeling?" Anna was sure she'd never asked the question as much in her whole life as she had the last few days. The answer was always the same, but she couldn't help asking.

"Tired," Elsa replied in a thin voice. She grimaced, squirming in Anna's grip and arching her back. She squeezed her eyes shut. "Hurts."

Anna blinked, overtaken with surprise at receiving a real answer before her brain registered what that answer was. She looked at the cuffs but there was no obvious difference. "Elsa, what hurts?"

Her sister sagged against her, breathing heavier. "Everything."

The response gave Anna pause, and before she could ask her sister for more details, she realized Elsa had fallen back asleep. She chewed her lower lip, debating whether she should try to wake her sister again, knowing she needed to try to eat something, but decided against it. Carefully, she adjusted the way Elsa was nestled against her so that she could eat some food herself. Anna had no idea her appetite was so veracious before she tore off the first bite of bread, and had to remind herself to leave enough for Elsa.

 _She just needs rest_ , Anna told herself, squinting up at the sky. She had no idea what time it was, let alone what time it had been when they left the fort. The sky had been dark for quite a while, but the ongoing snowstorm meant there was no moon or visible stars to give any hint of the passage of time. She only knew that her sister had been deeply asleep the whole way. Anna looked down at her sister's wrists, at the cuffs that now encircled them both. Elsa had been exhausted when there was just one cuff; Anna had no idea what the ramifications of two would be but was already worried.

She rested her chin against her sister's head and watched the landscape go by, wondering how far from Sioaskard they were, if Alarik was okay, if Jogeir had made it to the fort yet. Once he did, once he discovered they were missing, he would start searching immediately. The captain wasn't the type to waste time. The only variable was how far the Sirma would make it before that happened. _And how much snow fills the mountain passes_ , Anna thought as the snow continued to fall.

Despite the stress of the situation, or perhaps because of it, Anna found herself drifting off as the sun rose to its peak in the sky. It was more than halfway through its descent back to the earth when she felt something shifting against her, and drowsily assumed her sister was growing restless again. Without opening her eyes, she adjusted her hold on Elsa to run soothing fingers through her sister's hair.

"Anna."

The sleepy voice broke through the fuzz of her light nap and Anna's eyes snapped open. She lifted her head to see her older sister blinking tiredly but very much looking alert and awake. "Elsa! You're awake!"

Elsa pressed a palm against her eye, rubbing it before answering. "It would appear so."

Anna smiled, feeling almost giddy with relief. "We need to stop doing this."

"Mmm," was all her sister said as she slowly worked to sit up. Anna kept a hand at Elsa's back to steady her, and she adjusted herself until her back was against the wall, her shoulder pressing against Anna's. She released a breath of air as she dropped her head back against the wagon. A few quiet moments passed before she opened her eyes again. "How long was I out?" she asked, squinting at the passing snowy landscape.

Anna twisted her lips thoughtfully. "Hours," she told her sister. "Like a lot. I know it was more than twelve. Depending on what time we . . . left, it might be closer to fourteen or sixteen hours."

Elsa frowned but otherwise didn't seem particularly surprised nor worried to hear this. She pulled her knees up and rested her forearms across them, twisting her left wrist and studying the new cuff. After a moment, she huffed.

"What is it?"

Elsa tapped the center of the stone. "The other half of the bindrune."

Curious, Anna leaned over to look for herself. She remembered now, how Elsa had mentioned that the bindrune looked incomplete. "Do you know what it says now?"

"No," Elsa said, shaking her head. She leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes.

"Oh." Anna supposed that, given everything, what the bindrune said wasn't really all that important. She looked away, unsure what to say, and her gaze fell to the floor of the cart, where she spotted the small wooden plate and what was left of lunch. She leaned forward to grab the plate and offered it to her sister, who had to be starving. "It's not much, but..."

Elsa reached out slowly to take the plate. She balanced it on her knees, her fingers wrapped around the edges, and looked down at the offering of limp meat and hard bread, staring at the plate like she couldn't possibly be expected to know what to do with it.

Anna's concern for her sister increased a few notches as she attempted to assign an emotion to the expression on her sister's face. "Elsa?" she said softly, when the woman still made no move to eat anything from the plate. "You need to eat."

"Yeah," Elsa replied hollowly. She sat still another moment longer before finally picking up a small piece of meat and nibbling on it.

Satisfied, Anna sat back and chewed the inside of her cheek, taking the opportunity to appraise her sister. Elsa seemed unusually subdued, chewing somewhat mechanically, and Anna wasn't sure if it was anything to worry about. _She's been through a lot,_ she told herself. _She's just tired._ But there was something in Elsa's expression and posture that seemed so...resigned. Something that seemed a lot like giving up. And _that_...that was something she couldn't help but worry about.

She looked out of the back of the cart to where half of the Sirma party was riding, with Tyr at their center. Something had happened between Elsa and Tyr. Something major, of that Anna was sure. What she wasn't so sure about was whether her sister would tell her. It was possible, but not likely. After three months, Elsa remained a mystery to her, all riddles wrapped in a paradox and hidden behind a deeply controlled masked. The things she chose to share were meticulously selected and molded as needed. Anna knew that the only way to find out was to try and ask, because Elsa would never volunteer the information without prompting.

"Elsa," she said, turning her body toward her sister so that she had a full view of the older woman. "What happened between you and Tyr? Did he—I mean, when they brought you out, you...I couldn't wake you. I tried, but you weren't responding. You felt really hot and flushed, and—" Anna's mouth shut with a _clack_ as Elsa froze so suddenly, she could see every muscle in her sister's body tense.

Elsa's eyes appeared hazy and unfocused as she started down at the plate in her lap like she was seeing something that Anna couldn't. She pulled her knees closer to her chest, making herself smaller, and her fingers tightened around the plate until her knuckles were white.

Anna shifted to her knees, placing a hand on her sister's forearm. Elsa startled, her gaze darting up to meet hers.

For a moment, Anna saw something there that was so raw she felt her own heart stop. She tightened her grip on her sister's arm. "Elsa."

Elsa tore her gaze away, instead focusing on the plate clenched between her hands. "I tried to overload the cuffs," she said softly, the words rushing out in a single breath. "I'm not sure what happened, but..." Her brow furrowed tightly. "The magic rebounded, or something. It was—" She sighed, her eyes slipping shut. "I passed out from the pain."

Anna's stomach twisted painfully but knew that wasn't what had caused the look in her sister's eyes. She knew that look; she had _seen_ that look before and had hoped to never see it again. "Elsa," she said again, gently pulling the plate from her sister's grip. She folded her hands over Elsa's.

"It's fine, Anna." Elsa dipped her head to the side. "Well, not _fine_ , but I mean, the pain is gone. Though I do feel like I have been run over by a herd of reindeer. Muscles I wasn't even aware I have are sore."

Anna smiled at her sister's calm, passive attempt at humor, but she knew there was more to the story, because Elsa still wasn't looking at her, and the last time she had used this tone, the last time she had seen that _look_ had been the night Anna confronted her about Asia in her private study. Here were all the warning signs of an emotional shutdown, and that meant that whatever happened in the fort had been too much for her sister, and Elsa either wasn't ready for or just couldn't deal with it. The last time Anna pressed it had backfired so spectacularly that they had still been trying to mend things between them when they left for Valle. It was a large part of the reason she had invited herself on the trip. That, and Kai's less then subtle encouragement to distract Elsa from work, for at least a short period.

She knew there was nothing to gain trying to press her sister for answers here and now, when they were already stressed and scared and didn't know what was going to happen. But Anna couldn't risk Elsa sitting with the sort of thoughts she was worried her sister had.

Anna tilted her head to catch her sister's gaze. "I know something happened between you and Tyr in the fort." Her sister's shoulders slumped, but Anna didn't give her a chance to protest. "Of course, I want to know, but if you don't want to talk about it, I won't push. All I ask is—" her voice caught in her throat as all the fear and worry she had harbored since this started rushed to the surface. The constant fear of losing her sister after just being reunited pressed painfully against her chest. The look of resignation in her sister's eyes scared her more than anything else. She could try to protect her sister from others, from the world, but despite what Anna had said earlier, she didn't know how to protect her sister from herself, didn't know what she would do if Elsa ever gave up.

These men wanted Elsa to fight their war, wanted her to win it for them, and they had no idea what that might entail. Despite using it multiple times over the last few days, Anna knew Elsa still had reservations about using her magic in most situations, from a deep-seated fear of hurting someone. It hadn't passed Anna's notice that even though the Sirma had tried to injure and capture them, each time Elsa used her magic against them she had attempted to disable them without hurting them. Even when she _had_ hurt them, she had initially tried not to. Elsa didn't want to hurt anyone, much less kill them, and Anna knew that the fact that it had already happened weighed heavily on her sister. With the terrifying thought that Elsa was going to be used to fight in a war becoming more and more a reality the farther north they traveled, Anna realized that using her magic that way, even if they managed to come out the other end of this otherwise unharmed. There was a chance Elsa might not be able to come back from that, and it was the most terrifying part of all of this.

Anna's fingers tightened around her sister's. "No matter what, I need you to keep fighting. If not for yourself, then for me. Don't—" She swallowed thickly, tears welling in her eyes. "Don't leave me here alone. I can't lose you."

Elsa's eyes widened. "Anna," she breathed. She pulled her hand from Anna's grip and cupped the side of her face, brushing her thumb over her cheek.

When her sister pulled her closer Anna let her, turning so she could lay her head on Elsa's shoulder. "I'm sorry." She tucked her head under her sister's chin, sniffling softly. She hadn't meant to get emotional, but once she started thinking about it, it just slipped out.

Elsa wrapped an arm around her back while the other brushing the hair from her forehead. "Don't be," she said softly. "I'm sorry. I—I promise, I won't give up, no matter what." She pressed her lips against Anna's forehead, then rested her cheek against the top of her head. "Get some sleep, little snowbug."

Anna couldn't help but smile. She hadn't heard the nickname since they were kids. The tightness in her chest began to loosen, her heart warmed by her sister's words. She wrapped her arms around Elsa's waist, believing her, believing just as strongly as she had when they were little that her older sister was going to make it all okay.

* * *

"So, let me get this straight," Captain Jogeir pressed his fist to his mouth for a moment before continuing. "The Queen and Crown Princess are missing, and we don't how long ago they were taken because you were—I'm sorry, where were you again?"

Alarik winced. His first concern was obviously to assist in finding Anna and Elsa, but he couldn't help thinking that _this_ was what the end of one's military career looked like, if he even lived long enough to see it happen. The odds were not currently in his favor.

Just before noon, Captain Jogeir had arrived at Sioaskard with four members of the Queen's Guard who had made the trip to Valle, along with a full company of guards from Valle. His initial sweep of the fort had turned up no sign of Queen Elsa or Princess Anna, just a suspiciously burnt-out building within the fort, and an unconscious Alarik stuffed into the corner in one of the watch towers. After a medic had seen to him and made sure he was okay, Captain Jogeir had asked Alarik to update him on the situation.

He cleared his throat. "A follow soldier who I thought I could trust _lured_ —" he winced at the word, internally kicking himself for being so blindly stupid - "me away and drugged me."

"Right. So, because of that, we don't know exactly when they went missing. We don't have enough men to execute a proper search of the woods because someone here was falsifying staffing numbers, but even if we did have the necessary manpower, we couldn't use them because we don't know who here is loyal to the crown, and who may have dealings with the Sirma." Jogeir's gaze flicking skyward before he looked back to Alarik. "And of course, time is now even more against us because it is snowing heavily, and the mountain passes that the Northmen are surely using are going to quickly become impassable. Am I understanding the situation correctly, Captain?"

Alarik clenched his hands where they were firmly folded behind his back. "That's the whole of it."

"Christ on a bicycle." Jogeir dragged a hand down his face, looking like the last ten minutes had aged him thirty years. Alarik couldn't blame him; this was one hell of a mess, and just about every card was stacked against them. "Steinar!" Jogeir shouted, turning to where several guards stood awaiting orders.

A young man rushed over, and Alarik realized he was one of the Queen's guards. "Sir," he said, coming to a sudden stop in front of them.

"The Queen and her sister are missing," Captain Jogeir told him. "Most likely taken by the Northmen. I want you and Bior to take the guards from Valle and begin a search. Aleifer and Hosvir will interview the soldiers here and see if we can find who is loyal. Anyone they decide is innocent will join the search, but I want them paired with men you know you can trust. Understood?"

"Yes, sir." Steinar nodded sharply.

"Good. I will take Captain Alarik and ride to Arendelle. Thanks to the Queen's foresight, the Admiral should already have a battalion ready to move out by the time we get there. Tell Aleifer I need him."

"Sir." Steinar headed back to the group, relaying orders before finding the guard in question.

Alarik didn't want to go to Arendelle; he wanted to aid in the search for Elsa and Anna. Before he could voice his protest, one of the Valle guards hurriedly approached.

"Sir, we have a problem."

"Oh, good," the captain said. "I was worried we had run out of those."

The guard was obviously thrown off by the response, and needed a moment before he said, "sir, we found Commander Lee."

"And?"

"He's dead, sir."

Jogeir was quiet for a moment. "Somehow, the death of Sioaskard's commander seems like the least problematic of our concerns right now."

Alarik winced at the captain's words. Lee's loyalty had been in question, but that didn't mean he wanted to see him dead. At least, not without a trial, if he truly was guilty of treason. "Captain Jogeir," he said, stepping forward, "with all due respect, I would prefer to stay and help with the search for the Queen and her sister."

The captain turned to him, raising a single eyebrow as he studied Alarik carefully. "Captain Alarik," he said, slowly and calmly, "I understand that we both hold the same titled rank, and that may give you the misconception that we are equals. But you are a captain in the Queen's Navy, and I am the Captain of her Majesty's Guard. We are nowhere near the same rank." He held up a hand before Alarik even had a chance to open his mouth. "I don't tell you this to boost my own ego, as I am sure that will be ripped apart by a number of people over the next few days. I tell you because my job, my only job, is the security and protection of the Queen. A job I entrusted to you, and you failed in a spectacular manner.

"Now, you are the only one who knows the full story of what happened between the time the Queen left Valle, and the time she and her sister disappeared. So, when I tell you, _Captain,_ that you are going to Arendelle with me to explain to the Admiral what happened, it is not a suggestion, it is an order from the Captain of the Queen's Guard. So, I highly suggest that you speak with whomever you need to, find us the two fastest horses in the fort, and get them saddled and ready to depart in the next twenty minutes. Am I clear?"

Alarik swallowed thickly. "Crystal, sir." He was about to step away when another of the Queen's guard approached.

"Aleifer," Jogeir greeted. "Did Steiner tell you what's going on?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Any soldier you think can be trusted is to join the search. Make sure you are thorough in your questioning. If any of these soldiers seem shifty, if they move the wrong way, speak the wrong way, if they so much as say the Queen's name the wrong way, detain them. If they resist, shoot them."


	15. Chapter 15

Kristoff's mind wandered as he and Sven rolled past the castle gates. Even after three months, it felt odd to have the freedom to come and go as he pleased, for the castle guards to recognize him and allow him to pass without so much as a second look. A small, niggling voice in his head kept telling him that one day this was all going to end; he would approach the gates only to be stopped, the guards having finally realized that he was just an ice harvester from nowhere who had no place among Arendelle's royal family.

He stretched his back against the seat of the wagon, stiff from hours on the road. He had to admit, after a week spent harvesting and unloading ice, it was nice to have a place to go back to, even if it was a temporary arrangement. Kristoff kept reminding himself not to get used to this, to having a roof over his head and a comfortable place to sleep. Most nights, he found himself wandering down to the stables anyway, sleeping next to Sven because his bed in the castle was so soft, he was afraid he'd fall right through the mattress to the floor.

He knew this wasn't going to last forever, being a guest at the castle. All things eventually came to an end, and he was going to be prepared for it. These were material things anyway, things of little importance. He was having a much harder time accepting that when the time finally came, he was going to have to also let go of – would have to lose – what Anna had given him. Less material things; a different kind of safety in the whispered promise of a family.

Kristoff had always had a family with the rock trolls, an excitable, well-meaning, and loving family that he would never give up, but it wasn't the same. As much as they tried, the older he got the more he often felt like an outsider. There were things they didn't - couldn't - understand. Things Kristoff himself didn't really understand, but Anna seemed to intuitively know that he needed.

He would never admit it out loud, but that scared him. The idea of letting someone get close enough to know him like that meant leaving himself open to being hurt, which was something he had been careful to avoid since he was a child. Kristoff worried that if he continued to let Anna grow closer, their lives would eventually become so entangled there would be no safe way to pull the pieces apart again. And then, inevitably, he would lose her, either when she realized he didn't belong here, or when something else he wasn't prepared for pulled them apart. There were so many reasons they were wrong for each other, but every time he saw Anna, all those voices that told him to run were drowned out by her smile, her contagious energy, and her limitless kindness.

Kristoff pulled up short as he rolled into the castle's courtyard, surprised to see a large group of soldiers standing around the guardhouse. The gates had only been open for three months and he had spent a lot of that time away harvesting ice in the mountains. As odd as the sight was for him, it was possible that it was common for the guards to gather in such a way.

He steered Sven toward the stables at the opposite side of the courtyard. Kristoff hopped off the wagon and made quick work of removing Sven's harness, got the reindeer settled with a quick conversation and the promise of carrots from the castle's kitchen.

He started toward the castle itself, hoping that Anna and her sister had returned from their trip to Valle. His heart swelled at the thought of seeing her, even as he wondered whether she had been able to work things out with Elsa. For the past month, the sisters had been going through a rough patch. Nothing drastic, and from an outsider's viewpoint it likely seemed that everything was perfect between them, but Kristoff knew better. He could see the unspoken tension in Elsa's posture, in Anna's eyes. Anna had pushed too hard and her older sister had retreated into herself, throwing herself into her work to cope. Anna used humor and jokes for much the same reason.

After his initial conversation with Anna in the stables, Kristoff tried his best to stay out of it, not wanting to interfere as the sisters navigated around each other. The day before he left for the mountains, he broke his unspoken promise, seeing the strain of the discontent weighing on Anna. He had no doubt Elsa was feeling the same stress, though she was infinitely harder to read than her sister. When Anna told him about Elsa's planned trip to Valle and Kai's not so subtle suggestion that someone go along to distract the Queen from overworking herself, Kristoff had been quick to agree with the castle's steward. Anna had been unsure about going, worried about making things worse than they were, but Kristoff had encouraged her, saying that while he understood Elsa's need for space, it had been a month already and they couldn't allow the issue to sit between them any longer. The sisters needed to talk it out, and the multiday journey north seemed like a good opportunity to do so.

Kristoff gave Anna what advice he could, seeing the eagerness in her eyes, her desire to fix the fracture that had opened between herself and her sister, her optimism that they could fix it before it broke entirely. He knew that if anyone could, it was Anna, and he was looking forward to catching up with her and seeing how things had gone. He was almost to the castle's entrance when the sound of thundering hooves drew his attention back toward the gates.

From where Kristoff stood, he could see two riders bounding down the stone bridge at a breakneck speed. A watchman standing on top of the castle wall turned and yelled down to the guards below, announcing that one of the riders was Captain Jogeir.

Kristoff frowned; since he avoided close interaction with the castle guards for fear they would wise up and throw him out, he wasn't all that familiar with them. But he did know Captain Jogeir, who was in charge of the Queen's personal guard. He also knew that the captain would have ridden to Valle with Elsa, along with other members of her guard. He could tell immediately that the second rider wasn't Anna, nor Elsa, but there was no good reason he could think of that the Captain would return to the castle without them. His stomach tightened into a painful knot as the riders came to a violent halt in the middle of the courtyard. The men wasted no time in dismounting and handing off the reins to a scrambling staff member. They walked with hurried steps toward the castle but were intercepted by another older-looking man; Admiral Naismith, if Kristoff remembered correctly. The man in charge of Arendelle's military force.

The Admiral gave pause as he looked at Alarik, clearly thrown off to see the man standing there, he then turned his full attention to Jogeir. "What happened," he asked wasting no time with pleasantries.

"I'd hold off deployment for a moment. We have a problem." Jogeir glanced toward Alarik with a less than happy look.

Naismith looked between the two, his expression turning grave. "What sort of problem?"

Jogeir shook his head firmly. "Not here."

Naismith dipped his chin sharply, and all three men headed toward the castle's entrance.

Having overheard the short, clipped exchange, Kristoff hesitated for only a moment, knowing that it was not his place, or his business. But something was clearly wrong, and he couldn't shake the instincts screaming that that something concerned either Elsa or Anna. Before he could rethink the decision, Kristoff crossed the short distance between them and stopped the men before they could enter the castle.

"Something's happened," he said bluntly.

The three men exchanged looks, and Kristoff worried they were going to dismiss him out of hand.

"There's nothing to worry about, Kristoff," the Admiral said crisply. "We—"

"Wait," Jogeir interrupted him, turning to Kristoff. "You're an ice harvester, correct?"

He drew his head back, surprised that either of them knew his name, much less his occupation. He supposed that since he had been spending so much time around Arendelle's royal family, there was a chance they knew much more about him then he was really comfortable with. He cleared his throat and nodded. "Yes."

"And you have experience traveling through the mountains?" Jogeir asked. "Bad weather, dangerous conditions?"

The other man – Alarik, the Admiral had called him – looked from Jogeir to Kristoff with wide eyes.

"I spent most of my life in the mountains," Kristoff confirmed, though he wasn't sure why it was relevant.

Jogeir nodded then turned to Naismith. "We're going to need his expertise."

Kristoff still didn't know what was happening and though he knew he should feel relieved that they weren't turning him away, the captain's words had only caused the knot in his stomach to tighten even more.

* * *

The Northern Lights danced overhead as the short winter day turned too quickly to dusk before fading even more rapidly into night. Visibility was minimal, the landscape passing mostly in a black blur outlined by soft moonlight reflecting off the bed of snow on the ground. The journey was anything but smooth, but Anna had managed to sleep through most of rocking movement of the wagon as its wheels jerked over the rough terrain. Once or twice, she startled upright to blink at Elsa blearily and mumble something unintelligible, then dropping back to her sister's lap with a heartfelt snore.

The girl was now slumbering peacefully at Elsa's side; or, as peacefully as was possible, given the circumstances. Anna was tucked in close, her head resting against Elsa's leg, and her sleep-slackened mouth was leaking a thin line of drool to a growing wet spot on Elsa's tunic. Elsa couldn't bring herself to be offended, just smiled and stroked her sister's mussed hair with the hand that wasn't full of pins and needles. She found herself unable to hold her own exhaustion at bay, and dozed on and off throughout the long night, waking at regular intervals as the wheels of the cart dipped into a particularly deep rut. Once, she woke to an ominous rumble of thunder in the distance, a low sound that promised an inevitable further decline in their comfort. Once, it was simply the lingering soreness that was radiating along her right arm that called her back to consciousness. Eventually, she gave up on sleep and tucked the offending arm across her lap, laid her head back to watch the darkest parts of night pass as the sun finally breached the horizon. The surrounding land was so serene, it was painful in a distinctively exquisite way. Elsa knew this was just the calm before the storm, everything around them silent and still as the world took a deep breath before the final plunge.

She tried not to think about the fate of the soldiers at Sioaskard, or about Alarik. She squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed roughly, working to draw a breath around the sudden lump in her throat. She knew Tyr did what he did to show her which of them was in charge and which was powerless. He wanted to break her spirit, and her will, and Elsa hated that he had nearly succeeded. If not for Anna, she may very well have allowed herself to sink into that pit of despair and guilt that had beckoned to her in the courtyard. It was a pit she was painfully familiar with, one that she had spent thirteen years circling.

She wanted to be as strong for her sister as Anna believed her to, strong enough for the girl to believe that everything would be okay, but Elsa understood now more than ever how much she was the one in need. She needed Anna's belief in her even more than she wanted to fulfil it. That unwavering belief of Anna's is what would hold her up and allow her to endure whatever was to come. It had always given Elsa the strength to move forward, even when they were separated. Anna had never stopped offering that unconditional support, sitting outside her closed bedroom door and telling tales of what trouble she had gotten into that day. Even when Elsa wouldn't answer, Anna never gave up.

The conflict they were heading toward remained a mystery. Elsa had studied the wars of the past in her lessons, various battle tactics and their outcomes, but she had no real-world experience with the kind of fighting the Sirma intended to thrust her into. Arendelle had fought in support of an allied country under invasion when she was fourteen, but even then, she only learned of the details through her father's teachings. She didn't know what to expect here and had no control over the situation. That fact made her anxious and afraid for her sister, because as badly as she wanted to, Elsa didn't know if she was going be able to protect Anna. That was a thought more terrifying than any threat she may be personally forced to face. For the time being, she had to accept that to protect her sister, she needed to play along with what the Sirma wanted, no matter the personal cost.

Elsa lifted her head and surveyed the immediate area in the early light of morning. She knew the landscape bordering Arendelle well, had memorized the features at a young age from paintings and maps. With a sinking heart, she realized that they were no longer in the kingdom. During the night, the Sirma caravan had crossed into the northern lands. They were now far beyond Arendelle's border.

Anna stirred, drawing herself upright with a jaw-cracking yawn. She ran fingers through the tangles of her hair as she looked through the slats of the wagon wall, and Elsa saw it in the slump of her sister's shoulders when Anna remembered where they were.

She summoned the most encouraging, this-will-be-okay smile she could manage and gripped her sister's elbow. "Hey."

Anna returned the smile with tepid enthusiasm. "Hey." She shivered, wrapped her arms around herself as she straightened and squinted at the passing lands. "Where are we?"

Elsa wrapped an arm around her sister, thankful that while the cuffs were blocking her magic, they didn't seem to be affecting her indifference to the cold. "I'm not sure. A good way from the border, though."

"Are you sure?" Anna asked, her tone hopeful.

Elsa sighed softly. She leaned closer, pointed at a range of mountains in the far distance that was growing smaller with each passing moment. "That's the Skjoldfjell mountain range, which lays at least a half day's ride from the most northern point of the kingdom."

Skjoldfjell meant shield mountain, so named because the range stretched from the west coast to curve around Arendelle's eastern border and continue for hundreds of miles. It was nearly impossible to travel from one side of the range to the other. There was only one pass that was safe to traverse, and only during the summer months. The mountain range had protected the kingdom's borders for hundreds of years. As snow continued to fall heavily around them, Elsa realized that the natural protection Arendelle had enjoyed since time immemorable was now going to work against them, and hinder their own military from finding them. Taking in her sister's crestfallen gaze, she decided to keep that thought to herself.

Anna looked frozen through, and Elsa ran her hand up and down the girl's arm in an attempt to warm her. "How are you doing?"

"Me?" Anna turned wide eyes on her. "I'm not the one wearing some magic-blocking bracelets that are slowly sucking the life out of me."

"They are not sucking the life out of me," she said, rolling her eyes. "They're just . . . absorbing my magic." Elsa couldn't help thinking back on the expression on Erik's face when he saw her wearing both cuffs. It looked as though something was wrong, something the young man hadn't expected. She shook her head, dismissing the thoughts to focus on her sister. "Humor me."

Anna shrugged, wrapping her arms around herself. "I dunno. Okay, I guess. Worried. About you, and Alarik, and what's going to happen."

Elsa averted her gaze. Anna didn't know about Alarik, about the burned-out barracks at the fort. She hadn't been in the courtyard when it happened. In this moment, Elsa couldn't bring herself to tell her sister the probable fate of the man who had been a friend. Besides, there was always a chance . . .

She squeezed Anna's arm, drawing strength from the younger girl. "We'll get through this. I promise. It'll be okay." She prayed once more to the old gods that fate not make a liar out of her.

Anna offered a weak but sincere smile before laying her head back against Elsa's shoulder. They sat like that for a while, watching quietly as the sun continued to rise. Elsa felt uneasy, anxious, and found a part of herself wishing they were already at their destination, because the thought of the unknown was threatening to engulf her. At the same time, another, more sensible part wanted to put off the inevitable for as long as possible. As far as she was aware, their party had only stopped a few times, to water the horses and distribute food. Other than that, the Sirma, including Tyr and Erik, had taken turns sleeping in their saddles.

Just as Elsa idly wondered how much further they had to go, the rocky terrain gave way to flat fields on either side, and a river running to their left. She spotted tilted wooden spikes jutting from the ground, creating a barrier of some kind, and pulled Anna closer. The Sirma camp, she realized, her heart thudding in her chest. On either side of them, small tents rose up without any discernable pattern, ones meant to fit no more than one or two grown men. The caravan pulled to a stop near a larger, more prominent tent and the sisters watched silently as the Sirma soldiers dismounted their horses. Tyr and Erik were among those who handed their horses off to men in the camp, waiting close by as two soldiers approached the cart and unlocked the door.

"Let's go," one of the men said gruffly, as the soldiers stepped back from the wagon.

A feeling of helplessness fell over Elsa, her chest tightening. She locked eyes with her sister before rising to move toward the door, pausing before climbing out to turn once more toward Anna. One of the guards impatiently grabbed her arm and dragged her from the cart. Elsa stumbled, knocked off-balance. She suppressed the urge to fight against the men, knowing that here in the middle of the enemy camp, with no way to use of her magic, there was nothing she could do that wouldn't get her or her sister killed. She looked up at Anna, still in the wagon, and silently implored the younger, and far more reckless, girl to realize the same thing.

The second guard stepped forward to help Anna out of the cart, with curious care. As soon as her feet hit the ground, he wrapped a hand around the girl's upper arm and led her into the camp. Elsa realized at the same time as her sister that they were being separated.

Anna twisted in the guard's hold. "Wh - no!" She dug her heels into the ground and tried to turn back to Elsa. The guard tightened his hold on her arm and continued to haul her too easily away. "Elsa!"

Elsa lifted her chin and glared defiantly at the approaching brothers. "What is the meaning of this? Where are you taking her?"

"Your sister will be kept safe," Tyr replied, crossing his arms casually over his chest. "But I'm not idiotic enough to keep the two of you together and allow you to plan an escape."

Elsa narrowed her gaze, knowing that she had precious few cards to play here. "If you want me to fight your war for you, then I demand proof that my sister is alive, well, and untouched. At least once a day."

"You demand?" Tyr scoffed and stepped forward. His face was stormy, but Elsa refused to back down. "You are—"

"Supervised," Erik cut in. "And only long enough to assure yourself that she is okay."

Elsa fought to keep her face passive as she made a mental note of the subtle dissent between the brothers. "Fine," she said. Truthfully, she hadn't expected anything more. She turned her sister, her gaze softening. "Everything will be okay," she said, though she knew Anna could read the fear in her eyes just as easily as she could read it in Anna's. She watched her sister attempt to summon her own brave, reassuring smile in return as she was dragged away to a nearby tent.

The band of pressure constricting Elsa's chest loosened just slightly as the guard pushed Anna into the tent but did not follow, instead leaving another guard to take up post outside the entrance.

"Satisfied?" Without waiting for any kind of response, Tyr gestured to the guard who was holding Elsa's arm and the man pulled her toward the entrance of the large tent. She glanced back to where her sister had been taken, and a morbid sense of relief settled over her as she realized they would be within yelling distance of each other. If anything happened . . . Elsa squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to finish the dark thought.

The tent was even larger than it had appeared from the outside. A table was set up to the left, with a map unfurled across the surface, and small figures sitting on top. On the right side was a narrow cot positioned close to a thick pole, which appeared to have a length of chain secured to its base. At the back of the tent were three separate areas; a table and two benches were arranged in the middle section, either side closed-off with a flap of material. As it occurred to Elsa that these were likely sleeping areas, she realized that this was the command tent, and these were Tyr and Erik's quarters within the camp.

The guard pulled Elsa toward the cot, roughly jerking her hands in front of her. He grabbed the chain from the floor and fixed a metal shackle around each of Elsa's wrists. A short chain ran between the shackles, allowing little movement, and was met in the middle with the chain that ran the length of the pole and was fastened into the thick wood near the base.

Elsa clenched her jaw tightly as she turned to where the brothers stood. "A bit overkill, don't you think? You already took my magic."

Erik shifted, perhaps uncomfortably, but Tyr only sneered at her. "Keep talking and I'll have them add a gag."

Elsa simply narrowed her gaze at the man. There were few things in life she was sure about, and while she found there were less now than just a few days earlier, she knew with every fiber of her being that her sister was going to survive this ordeal, and Tyr would not. Not matter what it cost her, those two things were certain.

She surveyed the tent once more. Now that she knew who the cot was intended for, it was clearer than ever that the Sirma had never been looking for Arendelle's help in their war; these men had wanted her from the start. The guard who had secured her to the post left the tent, and Tyr and Erik retreated into their rooms at the back without so much as a look back at her.

Elsa was alone, in her enemy's command tent, lashed to a pole like a common animal. She took a deep breath, hoping to settle her nerves and anxiety. She tried to twist her hands, but the shackles were too tight and secure to provide any give. With numb fingers, she followed the length of chain down to the base of the pole and found the same was true at the other end. The chain itself was barely long enough to allow her to stand straight and did not permit her to raise her hands higher than her waist.

She bit her lip, frustrated. Knowing there was nothing else she could do, Elsa turned and sat down heavily, leaning back against the pole. Exhaustion crashed over her like a wave, and she closed her eyes, allowing herself to slip into a restless sleep.

* * *

Alarik folded his arms across his chest as he watched Kristoff, who he had learned was close to the royal family – Anna, in particular, pace back and forth in the courtyard. He looked like he was about to explode, and Alarik couldn't really blame him. Kristoff had been told, during a rather lengthy meeting, that not only had the Queen and Princess been taken hostage by people who lived in the far north, but that there was a distinct possibility Anna was being used as blackmail to force Elsa into using her magic in a war.

That had been a full day ago, and it was getting more and more difficult to keep the man from riding out to Valle himself and tearing the mountains and forest apart in search of the sisters. While both Jogeir and Naismith had agreed time was something they didn't have to waste, they had also been painfully aware that rushing headlong into a rescue operation without a well-thought-out plan could just as easily end in Anna and Elsa's death. And that was, obviously, an unacceptable risk.

That meant, however, that time had to be taken to plan the operation with care to ensure the greatest chance of success. They had spent hours setting up the basics, deciding that Jogeir would take the assembled company of soldiers and move out hastily to Valle to widen the search capabilities and establish a command center at Sioaskard Fortress.

It had been decided by the council that the fact the Queen and Crown Princess were missing was information best kept quiet, for many reasons. They didn't want to incite panic in the people of Arendelle, nor did they want to allow other countries the opportunity to take advantage of the situation.

Naismith created a plan to deploy a large host of soldiers to the north in three movements, with Jogeir moving out with the first company. Naismith would follow with the second main body of soldiers, and Alarik would take the rear guard, along with Kristoff, who insisted that he could help best in the thick of things, rather than verbally sharing his knowledge of the rough mountain passes. A final host of soldiers would be standing by with ships ready to depart at a moment's notice.

At Alarik's feet, Rune sighed. He had discovered during the previous day's meeting that the Queen, twenty steps ahead of everyone else, as always, had not only sent a message to Jogeir, but also included a note to forward information to Admiral Naismith about the staffing at Sioaskard. She had enclosed details regarding the Sirma problem, and instructions to ready a battalion to be sent to the fort. She had stated that she wanted a complete turnover of personnel at the fort, regardless of the soldiers' innocence or guilt. It was that foresight that had a company of soldiers already prepared to march out when Jogeir and Alarik had arrived in Arendelle.

"Kristoff," Alarik finally said with a sigh, worried that the man's relentless pacing was going to wear a rut in the courtyard. He didn't want to have to explain that to the Queen when they got her back. "You are making the horses nervous." He gestured to the horses that stood behind him, already readied for the journey.

Kristoff huffed, but didn't stop moving. "How can you be so calm about this? Don't you care?"

Alarik narrowed his gaze. "Of course, I care," he said, in a low voice do as not to risk being overheard. "But getting worked up isn't going to help anyone. I know it seems like we are moving slow, but if we don't do this right, we run the risk of making things much worse."

Kristoff ran a hand through his hair as he finally came to a standstill. His gaze drifted north. "Right," he said after a moment. "You're right."

"Trust that everyone involved wants the same thing you do," Alarik told him. "The safe return of the Queen and her sister."

Kristoff turned to him sharply, and Alarik realized that while all involved might have the same goal, they didn't all have nearly the same level of investment.

"We will get them back," he said firmly.

The ice harvester nodded, turning once more to stare toward the grey skies of the north.

* * *

Elsa shifted uncomfortably on the floor of the command tent, rotating her stiff wrists within the shackles. She released a heavy breath and dropped her head back against the thick wooden pole behind her, allowing her eyes to fall closed.

After the brothers retreated to their respective quarters, she had been left alone for hours. Her next brief human contact occurred when a soldier came in with a plate of food, setting the dish near her feet and leaving without a word. Elsa had stared down at the plate for some time, debating the food. She wasn't feeling particularly hungry, but knew that not eating wasn't really an option. She had no way of knowing when her next meal would come, and she would need all her strength and energy for whatever was going to happen next. The plate sat just out of her reach, so she used her feet to nudge it close enough to awkwardly pick up with her bound hands. It took her a few tries to figure out how to eat with such limited mobility, but once she took the first bite of hard bread, she found that she was far hungrier than she had though, and cleaned her plate quickly.

They brought Anna in around mid-morning the next day. Her sister looked grey and tired, like she hadn't slept at all. While it hurt Elsa to see the girl looking so drawn, she couldn't say she was surprised; she hadn't slept well either, drifting in and out of consciousness throughout what remained of the day and into the night, as exhaustion and anxiety alternately dragged her under and woke her back up with every small sound and disturbance. Anna's own relief in seeing her had been short-lived. The moment she saw the shackles around Elsa's wrists, the chain secured to the wooden pole, and the small cot next to it—well, for a moment Elsa had been sure her little sister was going to murder someone. It was probably for the best that the only people in the tent at the time were Anna, Elsa, and the poor soldier who had the grace to look suitably frightened in the face of Anna's outrage.

It took Elsa several minutes to talk her sister down, and even when she did, Anna didn't look any more at ease with the situation, though she settled down enough to promise she wouldn't cause any trouble over it. Even as the flush faded from her cheeks, she looked livid.

Elsa had wanted to talk to her sister more, to ask if they were keeping her comfortable in her tent, if she had eaten, but their time together was up, barely after it began. The soldier pulled the reluctant girl away, leaving Elsa alone once more with nothing but her own thoughts to keep her company.

She had no way of knowing how much time had passed since they were brought to the camp, confined to the tent and chained to the pole. Based on the amount of times she had been permitted to see her sister and the number of meals that had been dropped at her feet, she could hazard a guess that it had been around three days.

There were a lot of things she had expected when they finally got to camp, but prolonged boredom hadn't been one of them. The Sirma left her alone for large portions of the day, Tyr ignoring her existence altogether as he came and went from the tent. Elsa didn't know whether to be thankful or insulted by the treatment; a mix of both, she supposed. There was nothing for her to do, no one to talk to, nothing to distract her mind from creating hypotheticals related to the situation she and her sister were in. There was always a soldier positioned just inside the tent's entrance, keeping guard. He brought the food in and escorted her to the bathroom at designated time. She attempted to talk to him once, but was dutifully ignored. The guards seemed to be on a four-hour rotation, and she never saw the same face twice. Elsa had to assume Tyr had planned it that way. Frequent guard rotations stamped out any chance of creating sympathy from her captors in the hopes of turning one to her side, helping her and Anna escape.

Around lunchtime of the third day, Erik approached her. Elsa was sitting with her knees tented and her aching back pressed against the pole when the young man knelt in front of her.

He looked from Elsa to the cot next to her and back. "Is the cot not to your liking?"

Elsa's gaze slid over to the item in question. Since arriving at the camp, she had taken to sleeping upright, with her back against the pole. Logically, she knew there was nothing wrong with the cot, knew that she was being stubborn only for the sake of being stubborn, but in a situation where she was utterly powerless, she wasn't going to let go of this one thing she could control. This one small act of defiance.

She looked back to Erik, keeping her expression passive. She offered no answer, doubting that he truly cared either way. There was no chance he came to her now, after three days of barely acknowledging her existence, just to ask her about her sleeping arrangements, and Elsa wasn't in the mood for polite conversation.

When it became clear to Erik that she wasn't going to answer, he shifted uncomfortably. "I wanted to ask you, uh, about your magic."

The bold statement took Elsa by surprise. She raised her eyebrows but remained quiet, not wanting to give the man anything, waiting to see where he was going with this. She moved to fold her arms over her chest, but was quickly stopped by the short chain between her wrists, a rattle of metal against metal. She altered course and pulled her hands down into her lap, then waited.

He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. "Where does your magic come from? Like...how did you get it?" he asked slowly, as though unsure he was using the right wording.

"Why?" Elsa finally asked, startled by the hoarseness of her own voice, rough from days of unuse.

Erik pressed his lips into a flat line and looked down. She could see the debate playing out on his face, a look she had seen before on the faces of her advisors, on diplomats. There was something he wanted to say to her, or ask of her, but wasn't sure if he could, or even should.

He glanced over his shoulder toward the entrance of the tent, where the current guard was sitting and where Tyr had exited some time ago.

Elsa followed his gaze, engaging in her own internal debate before asking, "you know nothing about my magic, do you?"

Erik's attention snapped back to her. His eyes widened before he hastily looked away.

Anger swelled in Elsa's chest. "You dragged me from my home," she accused, "threatened my people, my sister, in an effort to force me to use my magic in your war and you know nothing about it. You have no idea how to utilize my magic."

"That's not the only reason I ask," he said defensively, then sighed. "But it is part of it. We heard rumors about what you could do, about what you did to your own kingdom by mistake."

"So, you want me to, what—tell you what I can do? Confirm that I covered my kingdom in twenty feet of ice and snow for miles around?"

Erik stared at her for a long moment. "So, it is true."

"You risked an awful lot on something you were unsure about."

"I wasn't lying to you when I said we were desperate."

"Clearly. You know, my people are going to be looking for my sister and I, if they aren't already. You kidnapped Arendelle's entire line of succession. They won't stop until they find us. One way or another."

"You're right." He dropped his gaze once more. "But I also know that there is only one path through the southern mountain range, and that it is quickly becoming impassible due to the snowfall." Erik shook his head. "I didn't want this, really. I only wanted help. it was never my intention to...force you to fight. And I don't agree with what Tyr is doing. But if I know how your magic works and how to use it in battle, maybe we can finish this quickly, and you and your sister can go home."

Elsa recoiled, bumping the back of her head against the pole. "You know that your brother has no intention of allowing me to live. And after what he did in my fort and to my people, I have no intention of allowing him to walk away, either."

Erik's eyes widened. He stared at her openly, looking conflicted, but she kept her expression steady. She had meant every word she said; Tyr had gone too far, had crossed a line there was no coming back from. Elsa wasn't a vengeful person by nature, avoided allowing herself to fall into such traps of anger or wrath by knowing how much more dangerous it was because her magic, but there were some things you couldn't forgive, and there were people who acted solely with evil intentions. It was naïve to think such people could be stopped with anything less than the same.

Erik shifted uncomfortably, looking unsure about how to move forward in the face what she had said. He floundered wordlessly, and before he had a chance to recover, Tyr entered the tent.

His gaze locked on her, and Elsa's stomach twisted painfully as he acknowledged her presence for the first time in days. Tyr's long strides ate up the distance between them in a matter of seconds, flanked on either side by two soldiers.

The man looked down his nose at her, doing nothing to disguise his disgust. "On your feet, witch. It's time."


	16. Chapter 16

Anna figured it could be worse. She was being held against her will, confined to a small, drafty tent, and only allowed to see her sister for five minutes a day, but she still figured it could be worse. Her tent was equipped with a pallet stacked with fur blankets that was comfortable enough, and a basic desk and chair. It wasn't the worst setup and was certainly more than the cot her sister had, and the Sirma hadn't shackled her to a pole like Elsa, so she was free to roam within the tent. She just wasn't free to do much more than that. Erik had offered to try to find something for her to read, all Anna could do was nod tightly while she imagined the satisfaction of flinging the book at his head.

She hadn't seen anything of Tyr, though that wasn't surprising. His only interest in her thus far had been as a tool to be wielded against her own sister. Beyond that, he seemed uttered disinterested in her existence. During the few trips she had outside the tent, she had started to notice a distinct difference between the way the soldiers acted around her, and the way they acted around Elsa. Small things, like the fact that while the soldiers she encountered were mostly ambivalent toward her, they were also civil, even polite. On the short visits to where her sister was being held, however, she had caught the guards eyeing Elsa with distrust, almost like she was an insult on their very way of life. The visits had been so few and short, it could just be something to do with those specific guards, but Anna couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more going on, something that made her all the more nervous for her sister. It felt as though the entire situation was a powder keg about to explode.

In her heart, Anna knew exactly what was behind Tyr's disinterest, Erik's politeness, and the soldiers' civility. They all perceived her as not a threat, thought of her as harmless. She refused to be insulted, instead decided that she would let them go on thinking that, even play into the part where she could. Stumbling over the rough ground as though she'd tripped, talking animatedly and non-stop to the guards when they escorted her. While, in actuality, each time Anna was able to leave the tent she worked to commit the layout of the camp to memory, adding a little more information each time. She talked her escorts' ears off, rambling about herself and her sister – nothing serious or deep, just little tidbits and stories disguised as nervous idle chatter from a trusting princess. Things she hoped would humanize them to the soldiers, making them more likely to help if the opportunity arose. It was something she had read in a book long ago.

She loved her sister dearly and would do anything for her, even if it meant gritting her teeth and being friendly with their captors. Maybe she could convince one of them to allow her to send a note to Elsa or speak with her a little more privately. Anna chewed on her bottom lip, understanding that gaining that kind of trust was going to take time, time she wasn't sure Elsa had. She still didn't know what had happened between her sister and Tyr at the fort but couldn't forget the resignation in Elsa's eyes, that frightening look that felt so much like giving up. She was terrified that once her sister was forced to fight in this war, no matter what happened after, there would be no coming back from that.

They'd already been at the Sirma camp for three days and though nothing had yet happened, Anna could feel the tension thrumming in the air, the calm before the storm. Noises outside her tent had her rising from the fur-piled pallet and moving swiftly to the entrance. She pulled the flap back just enough to see outside, but not enough for the guard standing out front to take notice. From her vantage point she could see the front of the command tent. Currently, there were horses stomping impatiently in front of it, and she spotted Tyr talking to Erik. The younger brother seemed unhappy about what Tyr was saying, but was nodding his head all the same.

Anna's heart sank when she saw two guards bring Elsa out from the tent. They had a firm grip around each of her arms, despite the fact Elsa's own hands were shackled in front of her. From this distance her sister's face looked calm and passive, an expression that suggested she was doing nothing more than going for an afternoon walk. But the faint glow from the cuffs around her wrists, the tension in her shoulders, and the whiteness in her fisted knuckles told a different story. One Anna herself would have missed if she hadn't spent the days prior to their capture watching her sister like a hawk, on alert for the slightest tells.

Anna's chest tightened and her heart pounded in her ears as she watched the guards all but shove Elsa into the saddle of a waiting horse, one whose lead was tied to Tyr's own horse. Her sister looked in her direction and their eyes locked as Tyr pulled himself up on to his horse. With a rough jerk of the reins, the horses jolted forward.

Anna twitched, her fingers tightening around the flap of the tent. She wanted to follow them, to see where they were going, but she already knew. As her sister rode out of her limited view, there was nothing for Anna to do but worry, for Elsa's safety, and the was a very real chance her sister may not come back.

* * *

The ride out had only taken a few hours, by Elsa's estimation, but the fact that the light had been slowly fading from the sky on the way left her feeling uneasy. She didn't need practical experience in war to know that nighttime battles were not only difficult, but dangerous for all parties involved. The falling night didn't seem to concern Tyr in the slightest, riding just a few steps ahead of her with the lead of her horse tied securely to his saddle. A company of soldiers marched on foot behind their horses. She was a skilled rider but uncomfortable on a horse over which she had no control. Her hands were still shackled and the fact she had nothing but the saddle or horse's mane to hold onto made for an awkward ride.

It was dusk when they crested the hill, the edge of the horizon alight with brilliant oranges and deep purples as Tyr brought the party to a halt. He dismounted and spoke in a hushed voice with three other men, all of them pointing and gesturing around the area. Elsa waited anxiously on top her own horse, looking over the grassy field that lay in front of them. Even in the fading light, she could see from the top of the hill where the field dipped into a shallow valley and stretched on for miles, a stream ran across the middle at least fifty feet from their current position. She didn't know whether she should try dismounting, though she was unsure she even _could_ get down from the horse on her own with her hands bound as they were. She remained still, waiting, playing the part of prisoner. At least for the moment, while she was bound and cut off from her magic.

She would look for an opening, fairly certain that if she could catch Tyr off-guard, she could easily make it back to camp, and to Anna, ahead of him or any other soldiers out here. After a few moments, the guard holding her horse moved next to her.

"Dismount," he ordered in a clipped tone.

Elsa swallowed thickly, her heartrate increasing as she continued to draw closer to the prospect of this battle. She wrapped her fingers around the saddle as best she could and swung her leg over, lowering herself toward the ground. Her bare foot slipped, and she would have fallen to the ground if not for the soldier's quick reflexes. He withdrew his hands just as quickly, stepping back to lead the horse away and leaving her standing alone on the hill until Tyr finally made his way over.

"It's time to see if you're worth all this trouble, witch," he said, his voice a deep rumble. Without warning he grabbed Elsa's bound hands, jerking them so hard she felt a twinge all the way up into her shoulders and making quick work of the shackles around her wrist.

Her breath seized in her chest as anticipation flooded through her. Finally, she would be able to use her magic again. And with that at her disposal, all she needed was an opening, and maybe she could get herself and Anna out of this. It wouldn't be easy; Elsa had no doubts Tyr would be watching her closely. He had been too careful up to this point to do otherwise, so she would have to continue to play along until the battle began and his attention was elsewhere. She could do this.

Elsa looked over the sprawling plain that would soon become a bloody battlefield, her fingers curling into a fist. She took a steadying breath, reminding herself that she was doing this, that she was _here,_ to protect Anna. Tyr twisted her wrist, and she was unable to stop the wince that crossed her face. Her gaze was drawn downward, to the star-like indentation on the underside of the cuff.

With his free hand, Tyr reached into his shirt and removed a pendant that hung from a cord around his neck. Elsa frowned at the pendant, having never noticed it before. Tyr dragged the cord over his head and pressed the small pendant into the indentation. He twisted it, and the stone imbedded in the cuff ceased glowing. He moved to her left hand, repeating the process. Even though both cuffs remained around her wrists, the light on both stones had faded, and Elsa knew they were no longer absorbing or blocking her magic.

In mere seconds, Elsa could feel a difference. The band that had seemed to be wrapped tightly around her chest disappeared, allowing a release of the ice that had been building up within her. An electrifying chill zipped through her veins and traveled along her skin as the magic rushed back, filling her being to the brim with the power that had been absorbed and blocked by the cuffs. The feeling was intoxicating, like a coming up for a breath of air.

Somewhere in the corner of her mind, Elsa knew the feeling should worry her, should scare her even, but the brief misgivings were quickly drowned out as she embraced the full force of her magic. For the first time since she built the ice palace on the North Mountain, the magic within her was not a tool to be wielded, but a powerful extension of her very self.

* * *

They had brought her food hours ago, a decent enough meal of stewed meat and potatoes with a hunk of bread. She eyed it a few times, telling herself she should eat, but she couldn't stomach the thought, not while her sister could be in danger. No, Anna corrected herself, was in danger. She wrung her hands as she paced, frustrated that the tent was too small to allow her enough steps to really stomp out the anxiety that was making her heart race and her head buzz.

No matter how hard she tried she couldn't stop imagining the countless horrible situations Elsa might be in at that very moment. The only reference Anna had to what battles and fights were like all came from stories she'd heard, most of them works of fiction where the good guy pulled through in the last moment and saved the day. She wasn't naïve enough to think them an accurate portrayal, and thus was left with what her own treacherous imagination came up with for the kind of battle her sister might be in the middle of.

* * *

It was louder than she expected.

And the smell . . .

As they rode down the hill and into the sprawling field, the horse's hooves clomping mutedly against the rock and soft dirt, Elsa hadn't known what to expect. She had spent years studying the wars and battles of the past, reading about them in books, listening to her father's lessons and stories. She was prepared for the battle to be messy and hectic, knew that moves and countermoves would be employed, like a game of chess with far higher stakes and a more permanent result.

But she now knew that there were things never talked about in books, things her father never prepared her for. Things stories and lessons couldn't do justice, things she now understood were beyond description. Things she would never, ever tell Anna. There was no single word that could encompass the noise of the battlefield, the clanging echo of steel swords slamming together, the agonized yells and hoarse battle cries of soldiers as they collided in a tangle of sweaty, blood-covered limbs.

And the smell . . . Elsa didn't even know how to describe it. Wasn't sure she _could._ The salty scent of sweat, the coppery tang of blood, the fresh breeze blowing across the field, weaving in a crisp scent of late fall and fresh soil with the carnage. The resulting mixture was an odor she knew she would always remember, assuming she survived.

As the battle raged, she did her best to use her magic to give the Sirma the advantage without directly hurting any of the enemy soldiers. She had been successful this far, and though it was taking more concentration and delicate work then she had anticipated, she was able to weave her magic without feeling drained or tired by the powerful cuffs around her wrists. Elsa created icy spots under the feet of enemy soldiers, twisted the wind and filled it with large thick snowflakes to obscure their view, and raised ice walls to protect Sirma soldiers from incoming blows. The entire time, she kept one eye on Tyr.

She had expected him to join the fray with the twin axes he had hanging from his belt, but surprisingly, and much to her displeasure, he hung back, carefully staying out of her line of fire. His distrust in her was made all the more obvious by the presence of two soldiers standing just behind her, their weapons drawn and ready to attack at any sign of deception. She needed to cause a distraction, something to draw the attention of the two soldiers and Tyr away long enough to get a head start.

The glittering surface of the stream just fifty yards away caught Elsa's eye and sparked an idea. She knew it probably wasn't the best idea, and she wasn't even sure it would work. On the chance it didn't draw their attention enough to give her an opening, however, she was sure Tyr and the other Sirma would just assume it was another trick to aid the battle.

She twisted her hands toward the stream, freezing the water. In one smooth motion, she threw her hands upward, causing a thick wall of ice to explode up from the creek bed, six feet high with jagged pieces of ice protruding from the wall, moonlight offering them a threatening sort of gleam in the otherwise dark night.

Elsa heard the shuffling of the soldiers moving behind her and took advantage of their surprise, rotating swiftly to shoot ice at the hands holding their weapons. She twisted her wrist and froze the men in place from the waist down, rooting them to the earth and preventing them from giving chase. Without hesitation, she took off at a sprint. Head spinning, she knew the first thing she needed to do was to put some immediate distance between herself and the Sirma, then she could create an ice creature of some sort to carry her to camp far faster than any horse could follow. Each impact of her bare feet against the hard ground left a trail of slick ice and jagged frosty spikes, anything to keep the Sirma from catching up to her.

Elsa only made it twenty feet before a frighteningly familiar pain ricocheted up both arms, and the stones embedded in her cuffs flared brightly in the dark night. The shock of pain knocked her off-balance, and her foot hit the ground at an agonizing angle before the rest of her body followed suit, crumbling to the hard dirt with a bone-rattling impact. _No._ She bit her lip and rolled, still trying to catch her breath as she planted her palms atop the ground and shoved herself back upright. She couldn't stop now. She barely made it to her feet when something struck the side of her face with resounding _crack._ The force spun her body around as the ground fell away, and she landed in the dirt face-first.

Ears ringing, chest heaving, she blinked hard, struggling to pull the dim world into focus. Her left cheek was throbbing and blood filled her mouth from where her teeth had dug into the inside of her cheek. Still, Elsa never stopped moving, tried to drag herself back to her feet. She got no further than her knees when a beefy hand wrapped around her throat and she was yanked up from the ground.

She clawed at the fingers around her neck, freezing as she came face-to-face with Tyr. His face glowed red with unbridled anger, and Elsa's eyes widened as his grip tightened, cutting off her air.

"You really think I wouldn't be prepared?" He seethed, squeezing tighter, until she gagged. "That I wouldn't be able to stop you?"

Elsa pulled desperately at his hands. Her lungs were burning but she could drag in any oxygen around his hold. The light from the cuff's glowing stones tore through the night, her magic responding to her panic as she slowly suffocated.

 _Anna, I'm sorry,_ she thought as spots filled her vision. Tyr's face grew hazy as pain and dizziness overtook her.

He ground his teeth, crushing her throat in the wake of a vicious snarl. Consciousness was slipping from her grasp like sand through her fingers. Elsa was on the brink of passing out when Tyr suddenly released her, dropping her to the ground like a marionette with its strings cut.

She sucked greedily at the cool night air, pulling in one desperate, ragged lungful of oxygen after another, wheezing painfully around her abused windpipe.

Fire ignited in her ribcage as Tyr kicked her in the side, flipping her onto her back. She cried out hoarsely, her back arching off the ground.

He knelt next to her and gripped her tunic, lifting her shoulders off the ground. "You're lucky you have proven yourself useful here today, witch. That is the only reason you're alive right now." He stopped and looked at something across the field, then dropped her roughly back to the hard-packed dirt. "I'll deal with your treachery later." He nodded to someone out of Elsa's line of sight, and rose.

Elsa curled on the ground, awash in agony, unable to think about anything except her next breath, and the one after that, each one grating in her already swelling airway. She was unsure she would be able to get up if she wanted to. A Sirma soldier grabbed her limp hands from the ground and locked the shackles around her wrists. He then made the decision for her, dragging her upright. Elsa's head spun nauseatingly at the sudden change in elevation and she fought vainly to keep the black spots at bay, reminding herself to keep breathing even as it grew more painful and her throat felt tighter with each passing second.

The soldier grabbed her upper arm and hauled her toward the spot where the horses had been hitched, away from the battle. Elsa's stomach flopped. She screwed up. She took a chance, and missed her shot. Tremors wracked her body as fear rose within her. Her actions were going to have repercussions; she knew that much.

The question was, who would be paying them?

* * *

Muted hoof beats thumped outside the tent, a whinny from the horses and the party came to a stop. Elsa. Anna hurried to the tent's entrance and pulled back the flap. She had to squint through the darkness, but in a splash of moonlight caught the form of her sister being tugged along by a pair of Sirma soldiers. Elsa's head hung limply, and from across the way, Anna couldn't tell if she was holding any of her own weight.

Panic surged in her chest and she stepped forward, only to have an arm like a tree trunk block her path.

"Sorry, Princess," the guard told her gruffly.

Anna could only watch with wide eyes and galloping heart as her sister disappeared into the command tent.

* * *

Elsa pressed the back of her head against the pole, arching her spine as she dragged in a wheezing breath around the tight swelling in her throat.

The battle had been quick and intense, even from her slightly removed perspective, distanced from the bulk of the action. Elsa had surprised herself, easily losing herself in her own magic and focusing on what she needed to do. She had expected it to be harder to use her magic in such a way, felt it _should_ have been harder, and that she should be concerned it wasn't. But that had been during the battle and her short-lived escape attempt.

Now, was a different story.

Once they returned to camp and she was left alone in the command tent with nothing and no one around, that's when everything hit her, like a stampede of reindeer. That's when the reality of had just transpired sank in, when the smells and sounds of the battle caught up with her, when the sight of warriors clashing so viciously that ground was soaked within minutes with blood slammed into her.

She couldn't stop trembling. The tremors weren't confined to her aching arms, but wracked her entire body, jostling her sore side and clacking her teeth together, ratcheting up the ache in her swollen cheek. Her legs were curled under her, and she rested the best she could on her good side against the pole, staring at the cot only a few feet away. Right now, Elsa wasn't thinking about pride, or defiance; she was thinking about how good it would feel to lay down and sleep. Except she didn't think she could move even that far right now.

Her chest felt tight, her throat burned like she had swallowed shards of molten glass, and each breath was more of a struggle than the last as her windpipe continued to swell. Elsa knew she should be worried about that as well but couldn't summon the energy required. Instead, she just shifted against the pole, trying to find a position that would allow her to breathe.

She didn't know how long she had been alone in the tent. She drifted lightly, her body and mind too exhausted to remain conscious any longer, but between her racing heart, the persistent tremors, and her swollen airway, Elsa found no relief. Each time she started to doze, her body would betray her, pain and discomfort violently ripping her back from the brink of tantalizing unconsciousness.

Elsa raised her gaze to the cot, once more debating an attempt to move to it, when she was startled by the sound of horses stomping outside the tent. Her chest tightened further, until she could barely breathe, as the tent flap was pushed open and Tyr stalked inside.

The hulking man stopped at the entrance and spoke to the guard, so quietly that Elsa couldn't hear what was being said over the buzzing in her ears. The guard nodded and exited the tent, and her heart stuttered at the thought of being left alone with Tyr.

He grabbed a stool and carried it over to where Elsa sat on the ground, placed it just beyond her reach as if she had the energy to _think_ about trying anything. Tyr sat heavily, regarding her with a searching glare. The way one might look at an animal that was curiously misbehaving.

Elsa clenched her jaw and attempted to draw herself higher, to sit taller, the entire time keeping her eyes on the man in front of her. She waited for him to speak first, because she didn't know what he was going to do, but mostly because she didn't want to know how badly speaking was going to hurt if pulling in a simple breath was causing her such pain.

Tyr leaned forward, placing an elbow on his knee while dragging the fingers of his other hand across his chin. Finally, after another moment of tense silence, he spoke. "I underestimated you. Your magic, and your will." The anger that had previously colored his tone was gone. In its place was a calculated calmness, one that worried Elsa more than the anger ever had. Anger meant Tyr was unpredictable, but this calmness meant he was dangerous.

"My brother was right," Tyr continued. "You are strong, and though you don't deserve the gift you have, you wield it well. The battle may have been lost without your magic, though it almost was due to your actions. And I cannot have that."

Elsa tensed, watching Tyr with a careful eye while trying to control her breathing and appear stronger than she currently felt.

He straightened, bracing his hands on his thighs. "I had imagined the death of your soldiers in the fort would have been sufficient enough to break you. I assumed you were just a fragile girl with magic far beyond your understanding and control. I miscalculated. I will not make such a mistake a second time." Tyr stood and moved the stool away, walked back toward the entrance of the tent.

Elsa slumped against the pole, a desperate sort of hope that this was going to be the end of the discussion. That foolish glimmer of hope was shattered as Tyr pulled back the tent flap, standing aside to make room for two soldiers to escort her sister inside.

The chain attached to her shackles rattled loudly as she shoved herself to her knees. "Anna," Elsa croaked.


	17. Chapter 17

"I had imagined the death of your soldiers at the fort would have been sufficient enough to break you. I assumed you were just another fragile girl with magic far beyond your understanding and control. I miscalculated. I will not make such a mistake a second time." Tyr stood and moved the stool away, walked back toward the entrance of the tent.

Elsa slumped against the pole with a desperate flush of hope that this would be the end of the discussion. That foolish glimmer of hope was shattered as Tyr pulled back the tent flap, standing aside to make room for two soldiers to escort her sister inside.

"Anna," Elsa croaked. The chain attached to her shackles rattled loudly as she moved to push herself to her knees.

Anna looked at her with large, wide eyes but she couldn't approach. Her arms held tightly by each of the soldiers, she was led to the table on the opposite side of the room.

"Elsa." Anna's eyes widened further as she searched Elsa's face. Her gaze ran the length of Elsa's tortured body before settling on what she had to assume was some impressive bruising around her neck. She turned to Tyr. "What did you do to her?" she spit angrily.

Tyr ignored the younger girl, his gaze locked on Elsa's. "I am nothing if not a man of my word, Your Majesty." He hooked a thumb on the side of his belt, just behind his axe. "I promised you I would not hurt your sister." He paused long enough to allow the words – the threat – to sink in. "So long as you didn't give me a reason to."

 _No._ Elsa's heart skipped, and she shot to her feet faster than she thought she was capable of. Still, she stumbled, nearly falling over when the chain connected to the shackles stopped her from moving more than a foot away from the pole. She strained against the metal, feeling every inch of distance between herself and her sister. "Leave her be," she said, putting as much of an order as she could into her hoarse, failing voice.

"I told you before," Tyr said, raising his chin, "that you alone are responsible for bearing the consequences of the choices you make. In this case, however, your sister will bear those consequences, as well." He wrapped his hand around the hilt of his axe. "But, as I am not a complete monster and you did prove yourself useful last night, so I will go easy on her." He surveyed her a moment before adding, "I will even let you choose."

"What?" Elsa looked between Tyr and Anna, wanting to do something, to say something to reassure her sister that everything was going to be okay, but she couldn't think clearly, her mind racing to catch up with everything Tyr had said. "Let my sister go," she pleaded, no longer caring about making it sound like an order. "She didn't do anything."

Tyr pulled the axe from his belt and nodded to the soldier who had been guarding Elsa just moments earlier. The man wrapped a hand around Anna's wrist and twisted it, causing her sister to cry out in pain. He then jerked her arm forward, pressing her palm against the tabletop.

"Hey!" Anna tried to wrench her hand free, but the man tightened his hold, roughly pushing down on her arm until she yelped in pain. The second soldier grabbed her hand and uncurled her fingers until they lay flat. The entire time, Anna struggled to free herself, panic showing starkly in her wide eyes. "Get off me! What are you doing?"

"Pick a finger," Tyr said calmly, ignoring the struggle happening between Anna and the guards.

Elsa went still, her sluggish mind taking far too long to process the insane request.

"Pick a finger," he repeated slowly, his grip on his axe tightening.

Anna's breath hitched as her gaze darted from her trapped hand to the axe, then to Tyr. "No!" She renewed her struggling with fresh desperation. "Get off of me!" Her breath quickened and a cry escaped her lips as tears formed in her eyes. "Elsa!"

"Don't hurt her." Elsa's own breath jumped in her chest, until she felt lightheaded and dizzy. "Please, let her go. I swear, I won't try anything again." She strained against the shackles, feeling the rough edges of the metal bite into the exposed flesh of her wrist. The stones on the cuffs glowed brightly as her magic responded to the influx of emotion, and she tried to use the fresh sting of pain to ground herself. The wall blocking her magic gave, just slightly, as she slammed desperately against it, a soft _crack_ that echoed in her ears only to be answered by the same mind-numbing pain she felt before. She struggled to keep her feet, her legs shaking so badly they were barely holding her weight.

"If you don't pick a finger, I will take her whole hand."

"Please." Elsa dug her bare feet into the ground, feeling hot, and dizzy. "Don't do this." Her overtaxed mind strained to come up with a way to get Anna out of this without getting hurt but was coming up blank. Her hands jerked against the chains as fear and desperation she hadn't felt in a long time crashed over her.

Anna bit into her lower lip and Elsa watched as tears filled her sister's eyes, as she sniffled.

Ice filled Elsa's gut and she suddenly felt sick to her stomach. She couldn't protect her sister; she was beyond helpless and at the mercy of this mad man. "I can't . . ." she said, barely above a whisper. Icy tears trailed down her cheeks as she continued to pull at the chain. "Please, don't . . ."

"Very well." Tyr lifted his axe as the soldier held Anna's hand tightly. Anna whimpered and turned her head away, burying it in her shoulder.

Elsa squeezed her eyes shut, mentally begging her sister to forgive her even as she knew she would never be able to forgive herself. Tyr swung the axe down in a powerful and swift arc, the blade connecting with the tabletop with a heavy _thunk_.

She steeled herself for the cry of pain from her little sister. When her ears were met with only silence, Elsa pried her eyes open, and the watery scene in front of her nearly caused her to pass out.

Erik stood in front of Anna, having somehow managed to shove the guard out of the way and pull her sister away from the table just before the axe hit.

"That's enough, Tyr," Erik bit out between clenched teeth. "She gets it. They both do."

Tyr leveled a glare at his brother. "You always were too soft."

"And you were always an overly aggressive asshole, so I guess that makes us even." Erik removed the axe from where it was imbedded in the table and tossed it onto the flat surface. "You have made your point. There's no need to go any further."

Tyr stared down his brother, seething and matching him glare for glare before he finally backed down. "Fine."

Erik breathed an obvious sigh of relief, then turned and laid a light hand on Anna's shoulder, guiding the shell-shocked girl out of the tent.

She took a few steps before stopping and turning. "No. Elsa."

Erik shook his head and ducked his chin, saying something to Anna that was too quiet for Elsa to hear. Anna looked back at her with wide eyes before nodding numbly and allowing Erik to guide her out of the tent.

Tyr glared at Elsa. "You got lucky this time," he snarled, jabbing a finger in her direction. "Perhaps you will remember who is in charge here. Next time, my brother won't be able to protect your precious sister." He stomped past the guards and left the tent.

Once more, she was alone but for one guard stationed at the entrance. Elsa's knees trembled, refusing to hold her up for a moment longer, and she hit the ground hard, tipping to the side and catching herself on equally shaky arms. The adrenaline that had been keeping her upright drained out of her system, leaving her woozy and cold. Sweat broke out across her skin and her chest heaved with desperate attempts to pull in air. It felt like she was trying to breathe through a straw. She curled in on herself, hoping to ease the pressure in her lungs, the pain in her side. Spots dance across her vision, rapidly increasing in size and number.

Elsa clenched her teeth tight, causing fresh pain to shoot through her swollen cheek as she tried to fight back the encroaching darkness. She wanted to see her sister; she _had_ to see Anna and make sure she was okay. She had to make sure that no one hurt her after leaving the tent.

A choked sob cracked unbidden past her abused throat as she realized she wouldn't see Anna again, not without Tyr or Erik allowing it. The pain that settled in her chest was fiercer than any of the physical agonies she was facing, and she was too tired to hold back the silent tears that dripped down her face as an overwhelming sense of hopelessness threatened to drown her.

* * *

Anna laid atop the fur-covered pallet, curled into a tight ball and holding her aching arm close to her chest. It had been hours since she moved. She wanted her older sister at her side, stroking her hair and telling her that things were going to be okay. She hadn't wanted to leave Elsa in the command tent; she was terrified what Tyr may do, but Erik had pleaded with her to return to her own tent for the moment, promising she would see Elsa as soon as he could manage it. She would have argued, would have put her foot down and refused to go, but the shock of what had almost happened had her shaken. Erik had passed her off to a guard to be escorted to her tent. Once she was alone inside the and the shock had worn off, she found herself shaking, and unable to stop. She felt sick and lightheaded, and a sharp pain was growing in her wrist, making it painful to move her entire arm.

She had sunk to the cot, laid down on her side, and stayed there for hours. At some point, exhausted, she fell into a restless slumber, startling awake at the slightest sound near her tent. She kept telling herself that she would be strong when she next saw Elsa - _if_ she saw Elsa - but right now, she was feeling scared, and overwhelmed, and anything but strong.

Slowly, the night faded into morning. As the sun rose and cast light on the tent, the inside warmed a fraction. Anna stayed in her bed and waited, knowing that near mid-morning one of the soldiers would come for her, and take her to her sister for their daily five-minute visit.

Except morning passed without anyone coming to fetch her. She considered bothering the guard she knew was outside her tent, desperate to check on her sister. Anna remembered the vivid red marks covering the side of Elsa's face and around her neck, the painful hoarseness in her sister's voice, and each ragged breath that had been disturbingly audible from across the tent. She also remembered the cold calmness in Tyr's voice, the bruising grip around her slowly swelling wrist, and the heart-stopping anticipation of waiting for Tyr's axe fall.

She wanted to see her sister, to have Elsa hold her and tell her everything would be okay, that she would _make_ everything okay, but Anna was scared. It was taking everything she had to not cry right now. With everything Elsa was going through, she knew she couldn't put that on her sister's shoulders too. She had to be strong, for her.

* * *

She slept because her body would no longer allow anything else, but her mind refused to allow Elsa any real rest. She dreamed of losing Anna, a hundred different ways. Of her sister falling away from her and being one step too slow to save her. From tumbling over the edge of a cliff, from falling into violent ocean waters, from being frozen to death, again. Each time Elsa startled awake right as Anna was torn away, gasping, her own battered body protesting as she jolted. It went on like that for hours, until her body could take no more and she finally dropped into a deep sleep.

She woke at some point in the early morning. Her throat still felt raw, painful, and tight, but it no longer seemed to be getting any worse. The side of her face ached, and she quickly found moving her jaw was not the greatest idea. Her ribs, at least, seemed to be okay; they were sore and pulled painfully if she tried to take to deep a breath, but were the least of her worries.

Elsa found a bowl of grits on the ground near her feet and regarded the food with mild interest before finally working up the energy to shift the bowl close enough to pick up. The fact that each breath was still grating sharply had her wondering how well even the soft offering was going to go down.

It didn't take long to learn she was right to hesitate; the grits caught in her swollen throat and caused her to choke, sending her into a rough coughing fit that triggered a chain reaction of agony throughout her chest, ribs, and battered cheek. When Elsa finally got the coughing fit under control, she wished desperately for some water, but there was none. She abandoned the food, shoving the bowl away, not prepared to go another round.

She rested her head back against the pole, her body and mind both alight with a cacophony of different feelings, each one fighting for the spotlight. No matter what thought tugged at her mind or sharp bite of pain worked to distract her, Elsa's mind always circled around to the same place, because every path eventually led back to her sister.

She had promised Anna that she wouldn't give up, and she was determined to keep that promise. What Tyr had done to her, and what he almost did to her sister, had shaken her to core. It wasn't that Elsa hadn't suspected the man capable of that level of violence but knowing it and witnessing it were two vastly different things.

She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of breaking her will, of taking her strength. She knew in her heart that as long as she had Anna, those things could never be taken from her. His actions had affected her, but not in the way Tyr had been hoping. They had tempered Elsa like steel, burning away the impurities and leaving behind a hardened core. She wouldn't give up, but she was also not going to make another move that risked putting Anna in that sort of danger. She wouldn't be so reckless again.

As the morning moved toward afternoon, a soldier came to retrieve the bowl, and while he appeared surprised to see it was still full, he disappeared without a word about it. Lunch was brought in sometime later: bread, salted meats, and what looked like some dried fruit. Elsa would have laughed if she didn't know it would cause her such agony. This time she didn't even make an attempt at the food, knowing there was no point. Instead, she closed her eyes and let herself drift off, her mind replaying the happy moments she and Anna had had together.

Some time, though not nearly enough, passed before something woke her up. She blinked, struggling to pull the blurry image in front of her into focus. When her vision cleared enough, she saw it was Erik talking to the guard at the entranceway.

He lifted his gaze and looked her way, startling when he realized she was awake.

* * *

Erik watched as Tyr rode out with two soldiers to scout some areas in preparation for the next battle and couldn't say he was disappointed to see his brother go. It was only a scouting party, and the chances of something dangerous happening was minimal, but mostly he was thankful for the chance to think without his brother around. He had mixed feelings about the events that had transpired since they first made their way to Arendelle. They'd had a plan, agreed upon before they left home with a few soldiers. It wasn't until the Erik met with Anna in the inn that he discovered Tyr had gone completely off-script, had made his own plan in the event Erik couldn't convince Arendelle's Queen to help them.

When he thought about how prepared his brother had been, he realized that Tyr had known from the beginning that Queen Elsa wouldn't agree to help them. His brother was still playing his own game, and hiding something from him, Erik knew that much.

He and his brother had always been close, bonded when they were children over the cruel way their father acted toward them. Things had been good, comparatively, when they were younger, and their mother was still alive. Her kind heart and generous spirit had tempered their father's lust for glory, maintaining it at a more manageable level. But when Erik was six and his brother twelve, their mother passed away from a fever, the healers and shaman unable to do anything to save her.

After she was gone, their father changed.

With no one around to keep him in check, he became almost cruel in his desperation to fill some void neither he nor Tyr could ever seem to meet. As he grew into something of a scholar, Father had very little interest in Erik or his interests. He had never been one for the battlefield, and while good at tactics, never cared for war games. Tyr, on the other hand, was an excellent solider and brilliant tactician, and their father fawned over him, but only when Tyr succeeded. His failures were met with disappointment and disdain. Erik had felt sorry for his brother; the indifference he himself received from their father was much more preferable to the conditional attention he offered Tyr. Erik's brother developed a drive to prove himself, every success coming with the caveat that he knew he needed to do even better next time.

Their father had been killed in a Vindarr raid some months prior, suddenly thrusting Tyr into a position of power, the leader of their people. Erik mourned his father but wasn't saddened by the loss. He had hoped that with the man and his overbearing presence gone, the drive that had pushed Tyr most of his life would ease. Instead, the opposite happened, and Tyr become desperate to prove that he was every bit the man his father was, that he was worthy of their father's legacy, and would be a great leader. A better leader. Adding to that inherent drive was a need to exact revenge on the people responsible for their father's death.

For months now, something had felt off. The Sirma and Vindarr had always been rivals, going back to the time of the Vikings, but generally left each other alone. The two tribes were too evenly matched, and all-out war would mean mutually assured destruction. So, the most that happened were minor skirmishes and some land disputes, all of which amounted to little more than posturing and name calling.

What had been a casual rivalry between tribes had quickly soured into all-out war, and the Sirma were rapidly losing ground.

Erik sighed. He loved his brother and would walk through fire for the man, but he hadn't expected Tyr to ask him to stand by while he made an innocent woman walk through the fire instead. He didn't like it, and he wanted to let the Queen and Anna go, to allow them to return home. But now – now they were all in too deep. Releasing them now meant sacrificing the Sirma people. With the help of Queen Elsa's powers – if they were used correctly – this war could be over quickly, and then they could all return home. They just needed a little more time.

Assuming, or course, that Queen Elsa and Tyr didn't kill each other before then. The Queen's threat to his brother echoed loudly in Erik's head. She had been angry and unwilling to forgive Tyr before, and Erik was sure she'd be even less inclined now. He hadn't been able to get a full story from Tyr about what happened on the battlefield, nothing beyond "the witch tried to escape." He hadn't asked what happened afterward; he didn't need to. Tyr's reaction, his fury, was painted across the Queen's face and neck, in vivid purple and blue hues that had quickly formed over the night.

It wasn't the bruises Tyr had caused, however, that made Erik worry there would be no walking away from this. It was what he had almost done to Princess Anna. If Erik had been a fraction slower, the young princess would now be missing a hand, and he was positive there was nothing in the world that would have stopped her older sister from killing Tyr, magic cuffs or no. Tyr had always been aggressive and temperamental, but the action worried Erik. This felt too close to something their father would have done.

He couldn't lose his brother.

Erik dragged a hand down his face as he covered the final steps to the command tent. When he entered, he was concerned to find Queen Elsa hadn't moved from the position she had been in when he went to bed the night before. She listed against the pole, her legs drawn in close, her chin drooping to her chest as she slept. It was now midday, and while it was true that she couldn't move much, chained as she was, it was worrisome that she hadn't moved at all in half a day.

He spoke to the guard, who informed him the Queen hadn't eaten breakfast, or lunch, but she had been awake, at least for a little bit. Erik chewed his lower lip, looking toward Elsa and startling when he saw her blinking tiredly at him. His last conversation with the woman hadn't gone well; she had seemed reluctant to talk, and they were interrupted by his brother before she had a chance to. Erik decided it was worth another shot. At the very least, he had to make sure she was okay. Or, as okay as she could be, all things considered.

She watched with a weary, silent stare as he crossed the tent and knelt in front of her. Up close, the bruising on her cheek looked swollen and painful, a deep purple that stretched from just below her eye to just above her jawline. The marks and swelling around her neck looked even worse, the bruises there engulfing the entire length of her throat and stretching around to the back. Having suffered more than enough severe bruising in his lifetime, he knew she had to be in pain.

"The guard said you didn't eat," he said, hiding a wince. "Is there something wrong with the food?"

Elsa pulled her tented knees closer and regarded him for a moment. She averted her gaze, looking at nothing in particular.

"I know you're pissed. I—I didn't think Tyr would go that far, but you shouldn't have tried to escape." Even as Erik said the words, they felt wrong, and left a foul taste on his tongue.

Elsa turned back, glaring in response.

"You have to eat something," Erik tried again. "If there is something else you'd prefer. . ."

She dropped her gaze again, and he couldn't help but think how tired she looked. She shifted against the pole, a wince crossing her face, and lifted her chained hands. She gestured to her throat and gingerly shook her head.

It took Erik a moment to figure out what she was trying to say, but between the bruising and the faint whistle he could hear with each inhale, he finally got it. Her throat was too damaged to swallow much comfortably, and he was sure her jaw was probably also too sore for chewing. "I'm sorry," he said softly, knowing his apology couldn't possibly mean anything to her. "If we had any ice, I would offer it to you, to help with the swelling."

Else raised her eyebrows as she held out her arms to him, palm up.

Confused, he looked down at her hands. When he saw the locks on the cuffs, he sighed. _Of course_. She could make her own ice. With full use of her magic, she could probably reduce the swelling to a manageable level, if not do away with it entirely in a short span of time. Erik's stomach twisted guiltily. "I'm sorry. Tyr is the only one with a key." Even if he had the key, he wasn't sure he would unlock a cuff for her and was thankful the decision was out of his hands.

Elsa huffed a breath through her nose and pulled her hands back into her lap, nestled against her stomach and legs. She once more drew her gaze from him. She stared into a middle space, clearly finished with the conversation.


	18. Chapter 18

Everything was moving too slowly.

Preparing to travel to Valle, reaching Valle, setting up once there and expanding the search – it was all taking too long. The days were slipping by, and every passing _minute_ lessened their odds of finding Anna and Elsa.

Kristoff had only known the sisters for about three months, but in that time, he found Anna had wormed her way into his heart and life in a way no one ever had before. And in Elsa, he was slowly discovering a kindred spirit. Kristoff had spent his life avoiding people because he was afraid that they would hurt him; Elsa did the same because she was afraid that she would hurt them. They had lived so differently, yet had so much in common, and had been brought together by the greatest thing either of them ever had.

Not finding them wasn't an outcome Kristoff could live with.

He had traveled with Alarik, a man of seemingly few words, up to Valle. Once there, they found Admiral Naismith, who had set up a command post at Sioaskard Fortress and had already begun to expand the search for the missing royals into the surrounding forest and mountain passes. Now that there was someone around with mountaineering experience, they would start scouting the more dangerous passes. Kristoff had wanted to bring along others from the ice harvester's guild, knowing they could cover more ground at a faster pace, but the Admiral had denied the request, worried that too much civilian involvement could cause more problems than it solved. Sending soldiers into a dangerous situation was one thing; it was something they had prepared and trained for their entire careers. If a civilian was hurt or killed while trying to retrieve the Queen and Princess, the sisters would not only never forgive themselves but would never forgive Naismith or Jogeir for allowing the opportunity for such a situation to happen at all. The Admiral also had to keep in mind that, were it leaked that Arendelle's entire line of succession was missing, the citizenry could panic, and they would only have more problems on their hands.

"No," the Admiral had told him, firmly. Kristoff was to share what knowledge he had, and the soldiers would take it from there.

Kristoff did what he could in the very limited amount of time he had to do it in. Afterwards, he set to work getting himself assigned to a scouting team. It hadn't taken much to convince Naismith, who knew they could use the manpower, and he was quickly teamed up with Captain Alarik and Rune. Since they had the best chance at finding the sisters – Kristoff with his mountaineering experience and Rune with her link to Elsa – they became the lead scouting party.

He and Alarik packed their gear and set out with the snow leopard. As everything else had been up to this point, it was slow going. Alarik didn't seem to be in the mood for conversation, which suited Kristoff just fine. He was used to the silence of the mountains. Rune provided them with a general direction to follow, though there were times she seemed unsure of where she should next move, almost like her connect to Elsa was fainter. And then there were times when Rune suddenly locked on a direction and they moved quickly to keep up with the leopard. The pace would last for a few hours, before Rune would huff in a way that sounded to Kristoff like frustration, and wander slower, unsure of where to go next.

They spent nearly a week this way, frustrated, slow-moving, and frozen through. Alarik suggested they head back to the fort to regroup and resupply, but Kristoff convinced him to go at least one more peak. Suddenly, the mountain range broke into a sprawling field, and nestled at the base of the mountains was a large camp. Rune was particularly keen to move immediately into the area, and it took some effort to convince the large cat to sit still. Thankfully she calmed, as Kristoff wasn't sure he or Alarik could actually stop her if she wanted to go. They knelt low on the cliff face, and Alarik pulled out a small spyglass to get a better look into the camp below.

Both men were eager to run into the camp and take no prisoners in their search for Anna and Elsa, but, as much as he hated it, Kristoff knew they had to wait. They needed to watch the camp and ensure this was the spot the sisters were being held, and when they had confirmation, report back to the Admiral.

Kristoff hated waiting. It felt like ants crawling under his skin.

Alarik watched the camp below through the spyglass, laying on the ground unmoving for hours. Rune paced restlessly behind them, and Kristoff idly wondered how the man could stay in one position for so long.

"There." Alarik said suddenly.

"What?"

He handed off the spyglass to Kristoff and pointed toward a spot in the camp.

Heartrate picking up, Kristoff held the spyglass to his eye and followed the man's direction. Then his heart all but stuttered within his chest. _Anna_. She was walking toward a small tent with a man following closely behind her. _A guard_ , he thought, jaw clenching. They entered the tent, and he lost sight of her.

That was the confirmation they had been waiting for. This was the camp where the Anna and Elsa were.

"We have to go down there," Kristoff announced, not caring that there was a sheer cliff face and unknown number of soldiers standing between him and Anna. He just knew he needed to get to her.

Alarik pressed his lips into a thin line, clearly thinking the same. He shook his head stiffly. "We need to let the Admiral know that we found the camp. We won't get them out of their on our own."

Kristoff recoiled. "We can't leave them there," he said, throwing a hand toward the camp. "We have to do something."

Alarik dropped his hands to his hips and sighed. He looked back at the pacing snow leopard, then back to Kristoff. "I have an idea."

* * *

Elsa winced as she rolled her shoulders, trying to work out some of the soreness that had settled between them, then slumped in the saddle. She was tired – beyond tired, beyond exhausted, which was becoming a sort of theme for her waking hours over the past...she didn't even know how long it had been. The days had been blending together for a while now, making the passing time impossible to keep track of. She knew enough time had gone by for her jaw and throat to begin to heal, and for the bulk of the pain to fade into annoying soreness. Enough time had gone by for her to be riding away from her third battle with the Sirma. This one had ridden so closely on the heels of the last, she wanted nothing more than to curl into ball and sleep for the next week.

That second battle had gone better than first. Elsa had stayed her hand, refusing to make a move against Tyr for fear of what might happen to Anna if she failed. She would rather fight in a hundred battles than risk harm befalling her sister. The first battle had felt hectic as she scrambled to figure out what to do and how to help the Sirma enough to keep Tyr placated while not killing anyone. She had also been distracted with thoughts and plans of escape. That split in her attention had resulted in a half-baked plan that failed in a most disastrous way.

Spending the days after that battle and failed escape tethered to a pole in the command tent gave Elsa a lot of time to think. To consider what she could have done, maybe even what she _should_ have done. On the battlefield, with full use of her magic, attacking Tyr directly had been an option, but she knew there was no way to guarantee a killing blow. Regardless of whether she managed to succeed, there had been the two soldiers behind her, and if they killed her, it would certainly leave Anna to the same fate. And if she had managed to kill him, there was still no guarantee that Erik wouldn't retaliate and kill Anna. There had been too many what if's and maybe's for her to seriously consider taking that route.

At the start of the next battle, when Tyr released her magic, Elsa had considered – though only briefly – channeling her power to create something like Marshmallow. When Tyr blocked her magic, the creature would still be able to attack, and would still listen to her. At least, she was fairly certain that it would still follow commands, even when her magic was blocked. She had not only quickly dismissed the thought, hating herself for even considering it. Olaf had come from a moment of longing for something she thought she couldn't have, Marshmallow had been made with the intention of protecting Anna, and Rune created with a desire to keep Alarik safe as he threw himself into the line of fire for her and Anna. Creating sentient life with the intent to _kill_ , not matter how evil that person may be, was something Elsa couldn't bring herself to do. Even if she attempted to create something like Marshmallow solely to protect her long enough to get to Anna and get them both out, there was a strong emotional connection between herself and her creations, and Elsa was terrified exactly what her emotions in the face of war would create.

She started drifting off when her horse jerked forward suddenly, nearly knocking her off-balance. She grasped the saddle with her bound hands and glared up at the back of Tyr's head. Her horse's lead was tied to his. The last battle hadn't gone exactly to plan, and she knew he was pissed about it. Pissed at her, to be specific, but there was only so much Tyr could expect when she was working on such little rest and even less sleep.

The last two battles had occurred back-to-back, and she had immediately fallen asleep when they brought her back to the tent after the second. Even though the guards had dropped some sort of stew near her feet, she had drifted off in her usual spot, leaning against the pole with her legs bent. Elsa didn't know how long she slept, but it couldn't have been more than a few hours before she was rattled awake by a guard. The man pulled to her feet and pushed her out the tent before she even had the chance to really wake up. The group rode out no more than a few miles; one of the Sirma scouts had spotted a large company of Vindarr soldiers approaching the camp, an attempt to launch a sneak attack.

Elsa cared little about the outcome of this war beyond keeping her sister safe, but the battle was long and brutal. The Sirma had come out victorious in the end, but not everything had gone to plan. Not Tyr's plan, at least.

She had stood atop a hill overlooking the battlefield, her breath coming in quick pants as she worked her magic. Tyr stood next her, directing the battle. Elsa had covered the entire field in a thin layer of ice, which wasn't an issue for the Sirma soldiers who had learned to expect it, but the Vindarr struggled. She felt every awkward, heavy step on the ice, every impact as bodies fell, every drop of warm blood that was spilled. She struggled to ignore it all, trying to separate herself from the sensations.

She heard the unmistakable sound of cannon firing, and then whistling.

"Incoming!"

Elsa didn't know who shouted the warning, but she reacted quickly, throwing her hands up and forming a thick wall of ice between Tyr's men and the grapeshot cannonballs barreling their way. She grunted as the projectiles struck the wall, feeling each individual impact like a physical blow. Cracks splintered the wall, and she dropped her hands, allowing it to shatter. The wall had fulfilled its purpose. Their momentum stopped, the cannonballs fell harmlessly to the ground as Elsa redirected her energy toward what she hoped was the only cannon. Her power raced through the air, over the clashing soldiers and hitting the cannon with enough force to send it flying back into the Vindarr army.

A horn split the air, signaling the Vindarr retreat, the end of the battle. She released a sigh of relief; she wasn't sure she had much left in her.

"Block their retreat!"

Elsa had turned with a start, blinking hard as she forced her tired eyes to focus on Tyr. "What?"

"You heard me! Stop them!"

She looked out to the field. "They're retreating," she said to Tyr. "The battle is over. You won."

"We can't let anyone escape," Tyr said, grabbing Elsa roughly by the arm. "Now, if you want to see your sister alive and well, you'll do as you're told!" He shoved her forward, and she stumbled over the uneven ground.

Elsa swallowed uneasily. During the first two skirmishes, the Vindarr fought to the last man standing; this was the first time they had sounded the retreat. She felt sick at the thought of what Tyr was ordering her to do. There was no honor in murdering fleeing men, but the threat to her sister echoed in her head, and she was forced to shove her misgivings to the side.

She took a deep breath and pooled her fading strength, sent it into the ground with a heavy stomp. Elsa listened to the ice crackling as her magic sped through the ground, and when she was sure her ice had outrun the fleeing soldiers, she twisted her hand into a fist and snapped it upward. At the other end of the field, an icy pillar shot up from the ground. She threw her arms out to her sides and the column expanded into a wall that stretched almost half a mile in either direction.

Elsa gritted her teeth as she struggled to maintain the wall's structure against Vindarr soldiers attempting to break through. She concentrated, repairing cracks that formed as they beat desperately against it. The wall was thinner than she had intended, and she scrambled to keep it standing, absorbing each blow beating frantically against it.

She felt it when the wall cracked, a thick fissure that cut through the ice like a rip of fire, forcing splinters along the surface. Elsa did what she could to seal the fractures but maintaining such a large wall from this distance had drained her. She fell to her knees, the ice wall shattering as she hit the ground.

"No!" Tyr grabbed her arm with bruising force and jerked her back to her feet, he shook her. "Stop them!"

"I can't," Elsa replied breathlessly, her chest heaving as she struggled for breath. She fixed the man with a hard stare, refusing to back down to him despite the fact she was on the verge of passing out.

The older man growled and all but threw her into the two guards who had been standing behind her. Elsa's knees buckled but the two men caught her and held her upright.

"Useless witch," Tyr spat. "You better hope no one escapes."

Elsa returned his glare with equal intensity and forced herself to stand under her own weight as the cuffs were reactivated with a simple touch from the pendant Tyr wore. One of the guards moved quickly to bind her wrists.

Not long after that, the battle was finished, and they began the march back to camp. No one knew if any of the Vindarr soldiers had escaped, and Elsa didn't much care. Right now, the only thing she wanted was to see her sister and sleep, in that order.

* * *

Anna sat on the edge of her pallet trying fruitlessly to distract herself from the thoughts running through her head, spurred on by the fact that her sister was put once again out there fighting in a battle she shouldn't have anything to do with.

She made a fist with the hand of her bruised arm and felt only a minor pull of residual pain. She felt the guilt more strongly than any physical hurt, knowing she had allowed herself to be tricked by Erik and his brother. She was so gullible, thinking them good people, and had willfully gone against her sister's wishes – no, against her _orders_ _–_ and now it was Elsa who was suffering for it. Elsa who still had Tyr's wrath painted across her body in hues of molten yellow and brown that somehow looked worse than the deep blue and purple contusions from a few days ago.

It didn't seem right, or fair, that her sister, who had been smart enough to turn the Sirma away, was bearing the brunt of it while she herself had gotten off easy, with only a minor sprain. Anna dropped her hurt hand to the blankets with a sigh, and her fingers brushed against the leather-bound journal there.

Erik had brought the book by when Elsa left for that first battle. It was a small attempt at extending an olive branch, as he tried to help Anna find distractions from her overwhelming anxiety about what her sister was going through. She had taken the book and promptly thrown it at his head. She was uninterested in it, a journal, Erik told her, that had been kept by his mother years ago. Anna didn't want to read the words his mother wrote, didn't want to learn about Tyr's childhood, didn't want to be forced to think about Tyr and Erik as brothers. As human beings with faults and hopes and dreams, just like she and Elsa.

That was then, seemingly a lifetime ago. They were three battles deep into this war now. As far as Anna could tell, from the view of her sister being taken into the command tent, Elsa had come back relatively unscathed from the second battle, but only a few hours passed for her to sleep before Tyr had his goons dragging her out again into the late morning light. Anna was desperate for something to take her mind off all the things Elsa could be going through at that very moment, horrible things her mind couldn't seem to stop dredging up. She had collected the journal from where it had laid on the floor since narrowly missing Erik's head and sat down on the bed with it.

She stopped before she read a single page. It felt wrong to sit on a comparatively comfortable bed, leisurely reading, while her sister. . .

Anna sighed and dragged a hand down her face. She knew she couldn't keep going around this mental circle; she was going to drive herself mad. There was nothing for her to do at this moment to help her sister except to rest and stay strong, so Elsa wouldn't have to be.

She sat back on the bed and pulled the journal into her lap. With one more fleeting glance toward the flap of her tent, she opened the book and began to read.

At first, Anna merely glanced over the pages of the journal, her eyes skimming and barely registering words. It wasn't very exciting, containing the stories and thoughts of a young woman who was entering her teenage years. Unenthralled and feeling as though the entire exercise was rather pointless, Anna was considering setting the book aside when her gaze landed on an interesting passage. She went back to carefully read it through a second time, and then a third, to make sure she was understanding it correctly.

In the passage, Erik's mother, Eir, wrote about training to be a shaman, the word that caught her attention, though 'shaman' was a name commonly used in old cultures for healers and leaders. But as she read on, Anna realized that this was something different, that the shaman of the Sirma tribes underwent training for years before participating in some sort of ritual with the Landvættir.

Anna recognized the name immediately. Elsa had said that it was their symbol that was embedded in the stone on the cuffs. As she read further, about the details of the Landvættir, the rituals, and the role of the shamans within Sirma culture, Anna came to a startling realization.

The Sirma had magic.

At least, some of them did. They weren't born with it like Elsa had been, but their people had once made a pact with the Landvættir, who in turn gave them magic. Anna sat back, stunned by the revelation. This explained how they knew how to block Elsa's powers, but not why they needed Elsa's help in the first place, if they had access to their own magic. Furthermore, she wondered why they hadn't seen any of these shamans around the camp.

A wrinkle folded her brow, and for the first time since the Sirma had taken them prisoner, Anna found herself wanting to talk to Erik. She wanted to ask him for more details about what she had read, about the history of the Sirma.

Anna startled as the flap to her tent opened suddenly. A guard poked his head through the opening, then stepped in fully. She shot to her feet, her stomach twisting with worry. When the guard removed his helmet, her breath caught in her chest. "Kristoff?"

His wide gaze appraised her condition before a smile broke across his face and his eyes lit up with relief. "Anna—"

She launched herself at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and cutting off whatever he was about to say. It didn't matter. Hot tears filled her eyes when his arms encircled her, and for a moment, Anna felt safe and secure and like, just maybe, everything was going to be okay. She buried her face in his chest, unable to hold back the tears.

She wanted to stay like that, engulfed in his embrace, forever, but Kristoff pulled back. He gripped her shoulders and ducked his head to meet her gaze. "Are you okay?"

"I've been better," Anna said honestly, sniffling. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "But I'm okay. How—what are you doing here? How did you get past the guards?"

"It's a long story," Kristoff said, with a wide grin. "One that involves mead, a wild goat, some dice, and a teddy bear."

Anna wrinkled her nose. "We don't have wild goats."

"That's what I said."

Anna shook her head, feeling confused. "I'm not sure I want to know."

"No. No, you do not." Kristoff grinned. "It's also not important. The important thing is that we found you, and now we are going to get you out of here."

"We?" Anna asked, hoping that consisted of the entire Arendellian Army.

Kristoff gestured behind him, toward the tent flap. "Alarik and a nice snow leopard named Rune, but she's currently halfway between here and Admiral Naismith."

The tent opened once more and Alarik slipped inside. He gave Anna a once-over as well, his relief showing starkly in his eyes. She couldn't help but wonder what the response would be when they saw Elsa.

"Your Highness," he said, dipping his chin. "Are you okay?"

Anna nodded. "Yeah, better now."

"Where's Queen Elsa?" Alarik asked, his gaze sweeping the small tent.

"She's not in the camp right now, but they usually keep her in the large tent across from this one." Anna bit down her lower lip as a lump formed in her throat. She wanted to keep calm but suddenly felt utterly overwhelmed again by everything that had transpired. She gripped Kristoff's sleeve. "You have to get her out of here. Tyr is insane. What he did . . . and they keep her bound, lashed to a pole like an animal. Last time I talked to her, she said she was okay, but . . ." She shook her head. "You have to get her out of here."

Kristoff held his hands up, brows drawn together. "Hold on, Anna. Slow down. Who is Tyr? What did he do to Elsa? And if she's not here, where is she?"

Anna folded her arms around herself and took a deep breath, reminding herself that she needed to be strong for just a little while longer. "Tyr is the leader of the Sirma, and he—" She heard the sound of horses just outside the tent, and her heart jumped. "Elsa," she breathed.

She ran to the entrance and pulled back the flap in time to see two guards pushing Elsa toward the command tent. Her sister was practically dangling between them, like she was having an issue keeping in step with the taller guards. Even from the distance Anna could see that her face white and her hands were once more bound.

Kristoff and Alarik stepped up behind her. One of them swore under their breath but she couldn't tell who. As she watched, Elsa disappeared into the tent and Erik emerged. He stopped in front of Tyr, who looked angry. The brothers appeared to argue, and Tyr took a step toward the tent only to be stopped by a hand on his chest. They exchanged a few more words before Tyr turned on his heel and stomped away.

Anna let the flap fall shut. "What's the plan?" she asked, wringing her hands.

Kristoff looked to Alarik then dropped his gaze, and Anna could tell this was something they weren't in agreement over. Kristoff rubbed the back of his neck, refusing to meet her eyes.

After a long moment of tense silence, Alarik finally said, "we came into camp to gather intel, and hopefully get you both out, but. . ." He hooked his finger on the tent flap and nudged it open enough to peer outside.

Anna knew what he was looking at, what caused him to hesitate. Two guards would be stationed outside the command tent, and another inside to watch Elsa. The path that ran between the two tents was often heavy with traffic, as soldiers passed by going from one place in camp to another.

"We can get you out of here without too many problems," Alarik said. "But the Queen . . . I'm not sure we could get into that tent without raising suspicion. And even if we did, there's the issue of getting her out." He looked back at Anna. "I imagine she is still wearing that cuff?"

Anna nodded, her shoulders slumping. "Two now. One on each wrist. It blocks her magic completely."

Alarik blew out a breath. "Then we have no choice but to wait for the Admiral."

"I'm not leaving Elsa behind," she said stubbornly.

"I'm not leaving you behind," Kristoff countered. "If they are using you as leverage against her, then getting you out of here might give Elsa the opportunity to resist without worrying about them hurting you."

"Resist how?" Anna demanded hotly. "They have blocked her magic completely. If I'm gone, Tyr can't use me to force her to fight. If he can't control her, he will kill her." The heaviness of her words settled in her gut like a rock, and she was forced to avert her gaze as the tears welled once more.

"Anna," Kristoff started softly.

"No," she said firmly, in a tone she'd heard her sister use many times before. It was an order. "I am not leaving my sister behind in the hands of that mad man."

Anna was sure Kristoff would have argued further, but Alarik didn't give him the chance.

"I'll stay," he said.

Anna turned toward him with wide eyes. "What?"

Alarik pressed his lips into a tight line, then nodded. "No matter what else the Sirma may be, this is a military camp. I can blend in easily with the other soldiers, maybe even gather more information, and make sure the Admiral's attack on the camp goes smoothly."

"I should stay as well," Kristoff stated.

Alarik shook his head. "I know you want to, but you can get back through the mountain passes faster than I can. The Admiral is going to need to know the layout of the camp and exactly where the Queen and Anna are being held so he can plan accordingly."

Anna put her hand on Kristoff's arm, gathering up as much courage as she could muster. She didn't want Alarik to put himself in danger again, but a very large part of her was relieved that there would be a friendly face nearby. As much as she wanted him to stay as well, she needed Kristoff to be safe. She had put enough people in danger with her brash actions. "I will be fine, Kristoff," she told him. "And the sooner Naismith gets here, the better we'll all be."

Kristoff frowned tightly, looking torn and frustrated. After a moment, his shoulders slumped, "Just. . . keep them safe."


	19. Chapter 19

Anna told Kristoff everything she knew of her own guard rotation – twelve and twelve, with only two guards swapping – and what she knew of Elsa's, which was only that her guard was swapped out much more frequently. She used a blank page from the back of journal to scribble out a layout of the camp, or, as much as she had been able to commit to memory. Her chest ached as she watched Kristoff slip out and disappear into the camp, and tried to take comfort in the knowledge Alarik would be standing just outside her tent for at least half the day, and that soon this nightmare would be behind them. She just had to wait a few more days.

After Alarik took his spot outside and Kristoff left, Anna paced the length of the tent, thinking about how awful her sister had looked when she was brought back into the camp less than an hour ago. She sucked in a breath and when her circuit next brought her to the tent's entrance, she pushed the flap aside and strode out, passing Alarik without a word. Her sight was pinned on the command tent.

"Anna," Alarik said harshly under his breath, stepping forward and reaching for her.

She wrenched her arm away just as second voice said, "wait."

Anna turned toward the voice, saw Erik standing there. "I want to see my sister," she told him, lifting her chin.

Erik stared at her for a long moment before shifting his gaze to Alarik. Anna's heart thudded, and she worried whether he would balk at the unfamiliar face, sound the alarm that there was in intruder in the camp. There was a very real possibility that she had just put Alarik in the line of fire.

Finally, he nodded. "It's all right," he said to Alarik, with no hint of anything being amiss. "Let her see her sister."

Anna opened her mouth to thank him before remembering that Erik was the reason that she and Elsa were prisoners here in the first place. She pressed her lips into a tight line and averted her gaze as she resumed marching toward the tent where her sister had just been brought.

At the entrance of the tent, Anna paused just long enough to subtly looked back to Alarik and gestured to a spot just inside the tent, the place where her guard usually stood waiting for her. The man seemed to get the idea, sliding toward the spot.

Elsa was seated on the ground, listing against the thick tent pole. Her arms were shackled and tethered resting between her stomach and bent legs, and her eyes were barely open, her chest heaving as though every breath cost more energy then she had to expend.

"Elsa?" Anna rushed to her sister's side and fell to her knees. When she got no response from the older woman, she cupped Elsa's cheek, unsurprised to find her skin warm to the touch. Not exactly feverish, but certainly warmer than her sister normally ran.

Elsa jerked slightly at the touch, and her eyes flew open.

"Easy," Anna said softly. "It's just me."

Elsa blinked a few times before her eyes focused. "Anna?" Her voice was raspy, weak.

Anna's chest tightened at the obvious exhaustion and pain lining her sister's face. "Are you okay?" She knew it was a stupid question, but she had to ask.

Elsa smiled tightly. "I'm fine, Anna. Just tired."

No matter what Elsa said, Anna knew she wasn't fine, but she needed her older sister's reassurance in this moment. Anna smiled in return, then turned to where Erik stood looking down at a map on the table. "Can't you remove the shackles? It's obvious she isn't going anywhere."

"Anna," Elsa warned quietly. "I'm fine."

Anna shook her head. "No, Elsa, you're not." She stood and rotated to face Erik; mustering as royal a posture as she ever had, feeling embolden by Alarik's presence. "You need to untie her, now, and allow her to rest properly."

"I'm sorry," he said, without even looking up. "Tyr's orders are to keep her bound when she's not on the field." Erik did look up then, and there was possibly even some sympathy in the young man's expression, unless Anna was imagining it. He'd been kind to them so far; as kind as a jailer could be, at least.

Anna stomped her foot. "This is ridiculous," she said. "You already blocked her magic and worked her to exhaustion. Do you really need to treat her this way?"

"Anna!" Elsa scolded from her spot still on the floor.

Anna winced and bit her lower lip. Before she could say anything more, the flap to the tent was ripped open and Tyr stormed in.

The anger on the man's face sent a thrill of fear down Anna's spine. Without warning, she was pulled backward and shoved toward the tent pole as Elsa stepped in front of her despite the short leash. All traces of the exhaustion that had creased her sister's face had vanished, replaced with a fierce glare that Anna hoped to never be on the receiving end of.

She sent a worried glance Alarik's way, scared what Tyr might do next and anxious that the man might feel a need to step in.

Erik moved around the table faster than Anna thought he would, before either man had the chance to make a move. "Whoa!" He placed a restraining hand on Tyr's chest, barked, "hey!"

Tyr allowed Erik to stop him a few feet short of reaching his target, but still jabbed a finger at Elsa. "Some of the Vindarr soldiers escaped!"

Anna saw the faint worry that contorted Erik's features.

Elsa shook her head. "That's not my fault. Even I have my limits."

"Bullshit." Tyr rolled his hands into a fist. "I should have known you would betray us."

"I did no such thing," Elsa gritted. "Maybe if you want to slaughter retreating men, you should tell your band of thugs to be quicker about it."

Tyr's face darkened. "Careful, witch. My men are soldiers. They—"

"Soldiers have honor," Elsa spat, cutting him off. "Unlike you."

Tyr shoved his brother aside and stomped the last few steps to Elsa. Anna attempted to move into the way, but Elsa blocked her. A little-known fact about the Queen of Arendelle was under the layers of habit and lifetime of training Elsa had a temper, one that rarely came to bare. The fact that she was snapping back now, despite the risk, spoke louder than the lines of exhaustion about just how far past her limits Elsa had been forced.

Tyr stopped just in front of her and leaned in so that his nose was almost touching Elsa's. She didn't even blink. "Don't try my patience, witch, unless you want your little sister to have matching bruises."

The temperature in the tent plummeted rapidly, until Anna's breath clouded as she watched the scene unfold with morbid fascination. On one hand, she was glad to see the brute put in his place with her sister's quiet show of strength and power; on the other, she knew this could go very bad, very fast. She shot a glance toward Alarik, and saw he was standing just as tensely as she was. A faint crackling drew her attention, and she looked down to see ice spreading across the ground. The tension in the room was so thick, the slightest spark would set this whole powder keg off, and there would be no winner once that happened.

Instead of trying to step in between them, something she knew would end poorly for all parties involved, Anna swallowed her pride and turned to the only person in the room who stood a chance at diffusing the situation. "Erik," she said calmly. Once she had the man's attention, she gestured to the ice collecting at her sister's feet and hoped he'd get the message.

The younger brother's gaze dropped to the ground. His eyes widened and then he surged forward once, placing a hand on his brother's chest in one last attempt to diffuse the volatile situation. "Look, it's been a long day and we're all tired. Maybe even a little cranky. How 'bout we go to our separate corners."

"Tyr," Erik tried again, when no one moved. He pressed harder on his brother's chest, forcing him back a fraction. "Brother," he said softly.

Finally, Tyr shifted his gaze to Erik, expression blank. He looked back at Elsa, stepped back from her with a sneer.

Elsa drew a careful breath and kept her feet, her narrowed gaze tracking the older brother as he shot her one last glare before stomping out of the command tent.

Once Tyr left, Anna and Erik released a simultaneous breath. Anna felt lightheaded with relief that they weren't all about to die. It had been too close. She risked another glance at Alarik, who had a stormy look on his face, and she could only imagine what the man must be thinking.

Anna went to her sister and put a hand on Elsa's shoulder. The fact that she hadn't yet said anything was worrisome, and she noticed her sister's gaze was locked onto Alarik's face, her own expression one of confusion. Anna worried that, in her state, she was going to slip and point out their deception in front of Erik, and put them all in more danger. "Elsa?"

Her sister turned toward her, blinking rapidly "Ann—" she started, but never finished. Elsa's chin dropped to her chest as her rate of breathing sped up, her knees buckled, and she slowly dropped to the floor, like the burst of energy she had slowly drained back out of her.

"Elsa!" Anna scrambled to catch her falling sister and managed to take some of weight out of the slow fall, guiding the woman to her knees. She wrapped a hand around Elsa's shoulder as her sister began to tip forward to far. Her breathing quickly evened out, and Anna realized her sister had passed out. She held Elsa to her chest and looked at the cot only a foot away.

"Here, let me." Erik gestured to Anna to let him take Elsa.

Anna hesitated a moment, drawing her sister in closer. No matter how nice Erik may have been, he was still holding them captive and she didn't trust him. Not with her sister. But she didn't know how else to get her onto the small bed without hurting her further. She bit her lip and nodded, loosened her grip on Elsa.

Erik scooped up the queen with an unexpected gentleness and placed her on the cot, taking a moment to situate her arms so she wasn't laying on top of the chain. He started to move away but paused, looking down at the cuffs on Elsa's wrist. He wrapped his hand around her right forearm, lifting it off the bed and carefully studying the stone on the cuff.

Anna saw a brief glimpse of something akin to fear, or worry, cross Erik's face. "What's wrong?"

Erik looked up at her and shook his head, lowering Elsa's arm back to the cot. "Nothing. You can stay with her for a bit. I'll leave the guard in here with you, just—don't try anything," he said tiredly. He stared down at Elsa, then nodded. "I'll have one of the guards bring in extra blankets and some food."

"Thank you." The words felt odd to say, given everything they'd been put through.

Erik nodded curtly, then left them alone in the tent.

Anna lowered herself onto the cot beside her sister. She reached down and brushed Elsa's sweaty bangs from her face, tears prickling her eyes. She waited till Erik was gone and there was no one in the tent except for her, Alarik, and Elsa.

* * *

Alarik thought he knew what to expect in the camp. Or, well enough. These were members of a military, even if they weren't as well-organized as he was used to, and he knew what the throes of battle looked like. What the aftermath looked like. But to see the way this man Tyr had treated Queen Elsa…he hadn't been prepared for that. Standing by and doing nothing while the man threatened her and her sister had been one of the hardest things he'd ever done. But it was the right thing to do, to keep them all safe. Or, relatively safe.

He released a breath of relief after the man stomped out of the tent and turned back from the entrance to find Elsa staring at him with glassy eyes and a look of confusion. That man, Erik, was still inside the tent, along with another guard, and he worried the Queen would say something and give him away. Thankfully, Anna drew her attention before she had a chance. Elsa looked toward her sister, then went down in a slow, semi-controlled fall and Alarik once more had to fight with himself to not interfere.

It had been a surprise when Erik helped Anna settle the Queen atop the small cot that was pressed against the pole, though he still had an urge to yank the man away and keep him from touching her. Once Erik had cleared the tent, sending the only other guard inside to play fetch, Alarik hesitated only a moment, ensuring the guards outside weren't going to enter, before he crossed the tent to the Queen's side. This was most likely one of the only chances they would get to speak freely.

His breath caught as he saw the woman up close. From across the tent he had thought it was dirt coating her face and neck. After all, she had just gotten back from a battle, and they were messy in more ways than one. It was a shock to find that the color on the Queen's pale skin were large bruises, ones that looked to be several days old. He knelt next to her head, near where Anna was sitting. "How—" was all he managed as he reached out to tilt Elsa's head and get a better look at the bruising on her cheek, concerned when the Queen didn't respond to the touch.

"Tyr," Anna said simply, shaking her head. "I don't know what happened exactly. They only let me see her for a few minutes each day, just long enough so she knows I'm okay. But I know it was Tyr who did it."

Alarik pressed his lips into a tight line, making a mental note to ensure Tyr would die in the most painful way possible. He looked toward the tent's entrance, and when he was satisfied that no one was approaching, he turned back to the sisters. His gaze stopped on a glittering light dancing across the floor where Elsa had stood. It was ice. He frowned. "I thought you said the cuffs blocked her magic completely?"

Anna followed his gaze. "It does," she said. "At least, I thought it did. I hadn't seen Elsa use it since we got here, and I know she tried to. Like, really tried to." She rubbed absently at her wrist.

"Then how'd she managed to lower the temperature in here and cover the ground with ice? I didn't even see the cuffs glow." He added, remembering how every time Elsa had used her magic before, the stones on the cuff had glowed brightly.

"I'm not sure." She looked down at the cuffs, tilted her head. "Erik was looking at them before he left, almost like he was concerned about something. Maybe they're not working as well as they were before?"

Alarik couldn't see any obvious difference in the cuffs. The stone had the same muted glow it had the last time he'd seen it, except now there was one on each wrist. "Perhaps the Queen will have some idea."

Anna nodded and turned back to Elsa, brushing her sister's stubborn bangs away from her face with a guilty, upset expression. "Elsa," she said softly, tapping the Queen's uninjured cheek, trying to rouse her. When that produced no response, she shook the woman's shoulder, and it took a concerning amount of attempts before Elsa's nose finally scrunched and her eyes slid open half-mast. She blinked once, twice, then her eyes started to slide shut once more.

"No, no, no. Elsa, I need you to wake up." Anna tapped her bruised cheek, causing her sister to flinch away from the sharp pain, but it seemed to work to rouse her more. "I'm sorry. I know you're tired, and I wish I could let you sleep. God knows you need it. But I need you to wake up. It's important." Anna shifted on the small cot. "Help me sit her up."

Alarik tucked his hands under the Queen's back as Anna pulled her into a seated position and kept his arm across her shoulders once she was there. Elsa didn't seem to be hindering their manhandling of her, but she wasn't helping either.

"Elsa?" Anna ducked her head to meet her sister's glassy eyes.

Elsa blinked a few more times. "Mmm," she mumbled, then raised her hands, likely to rub at her eyes but was stopped short by the chain that tethered her to the pole. She let out a very unqueenly growl of frustration, a sound Alarik was positive she didn't mean to make out loud, as she dropped her hands back to her lap.

"You okay?" Anna asked.

Elsa didn't answer, only leveled her sister with a look that Alarik couldn't see from his vantage point. He got the idea though, when Anna dropped her gaze and tugged at one of her braids. "Right."

Elsa sighed softly and shook her head. "Anna, I'm sorry, I—"

Anna held up her hands. "Don't, seriously. I think you earned the right to be cranky. But we don't have much time, and we have something you are really going to want to hear."

"We?"

There was an uncomfortable, raspy quality in her voice, and Alarik looked once more at the bruises circling Elsa's neck. All he could think of were the different ways he could murder Tyr, and anyone else who dared to touch the Queen or Princess.

* * *

"We," Anna echoed, gesturing to where Alarik was seated behind Elsa.

Elsa seemed to just then realize there was someone sitting outside her view. She frowned tightly and tried to rotate her body but was stopped short by the chain crossing to the pole on her left. Thankfully, Alarik got the message and shifted, keeping on hand on Elsa's shoulder as he moved into her field of vision.

"Your Majesty," he said with a small smile, a dip of his chin.

Elsa blinked.

Then blinked again, lifting her hands to her face only to be stopped again by the metallic clank. She looked down at the chain, confusion causing new wrinkles around her eyes. Almost immediately, they started to slide shut.

Anna glanced worriedly at Alarik, placing a hand on her sister's knee. "Elsa?" she asked, leaning forward.

Elsa jerked her head up, blinking rapidly. She tried lifting her bound hands once more only to be stopped again, like she kept forgetting the chain tethering her to the pole was there. She shook her head. "No," she said in a soft voice, gaze turning to Alarik. "No, you're dead."

He lifted his eyebrows. "That's news to me."

Elsa squeezed her eyes shut. "Tyr," she said. "He had one of his men..." She swallowed thickly, her breath hitching. "He burned down the barracks, with everyone inside."

Anna's eyes widened. Suddenly, she understood with painful clarity what the look of defeat on her sister's face had been, when she woke up in the cart. There had been just over a hundred soldiers in that fort, and even if those men had questionable loyalties, they were still _people_. Anna knew how heavily something like that would sit on her sister's shoulders.

"The barracks?" Alarik shook his head, his brow furrowing tightly. "The barracks weren't burnt down. The only thing in the fort that burned was the dining hall off the courtyard, and no one was in there at the time." He tilted his head thoughtfully. "In fact, the barracks of Sioaskard are under the courtyard, and surrounded by stone. I'm not sure they could be burnt down. That's sort of why they are there instead of up top."

"But the soldiers. . ." Elsa tried to shift but was stopped by the chain.

"All fine," Alarik assured her. "Relatively speaking. They were confined for questioning and such, but they're all alive."

Elsa dropped her gaze and blinked rapidly as she worked to absorb the information, and Anna hoped the news would work to alleviate some of the weight her sister had been carrying.

A knot formed in her stomach, watching her sister. Anna knew the woman was tired – exhausted, really – considering all she had been through, but she hadn't expected this level of confusion. Elsa was quick-witted, sharp, and above all else, poised. To see her slouching and curled in on herself, struggling to connect the pieces of conversation together into a single thought had Anna wanting to beg Alarik to get her out of the camp now, before anything else could go wrong. But she knew, logically, that it was unlikely they would get more than a few feet beyond the command tent. Just like she knew that Tyr wouldn't hesitate to kill them if they tried. The goal wasn't just to get out of here; it was to get out alive.

She threw a glance over her shoulder to the entrance of the tent, knowing their time was limited and there was much to discuss, but also worried about overwhelming her sister.

"Whoa," Alarik said, drawing Anna's attention back just in time to see her sister listing to the side, her eyes sliding shut.

"Elsa." She reached out to cup her sister's face, tapping her fingers lightly against Elsa's cheek. "Hey, not yet. Just a few more minutes."

Elsa wrinkled her nose and made a frustrated sound that under normal circumstances would have been amusing.

"I know, I know. But it's good news. Alarik is here. Admiral Naismith and the Army are on their way. Just a few more days and we'll be out of this place." She felt like she was stating the obvious but wasn't sure her sister could make the connection for herself. She also worried if her sister would even remember this conversation the next time she woke up. _A few more days_ , Anna told herself. Then Elsa could sleep until her heart was content. And Anna was going to make sure that she did just that.

Alarik leaned in, kept his voice low. "Is there anything you know that we can pass on to the Admiral?"

Elsa scrunched her face up tight, then nodded against Anna's hands.

* * *

Erik brushed a hand through his hair as he hurried out of the command tent, pausing only long enough to send the soldier stationed there to fetch some thick blankets and food. The news about the Vindarr escaping was certainly unwelcome, and he knew his brother was pissed. He also knew exactly what Tyr was worried about. So far, the Vindarr had yet to send anyone with magic into the fight. Before the Queen, there had been no need for it; the Sirma had lost their connection with the Landvættir and therefore their shamans, and the Vindarr took the advantage to hit hard and fast, obliterating their defenses and giving them no time to recover. After that, the Vindarr hadn't needed to send any of their magic users to fight. There was little point in risking a valuable resource in a fight you were already winning.

Now, with the Queen at their disposal, the Sirma were winning again. But in order to keep their magical advantage, it was important that no survivors were left to tell the Vindarr leader. If they could make a big enough dent in the Vindarr military, it wouldn't matter how many magic users they sent to fight, there would be no one to protect them.

If Vindarr soldiers had escaped the battle, they would surely report back what they had seen. Even so, there was still a good chance the Sirma could win this, if they were careful. The Queen had proven to be a lot stronger than the magic users they were used to seeing, and while that had initially been a good thing, they now potentially had a big problem on their hands.

Erik knew where Tyr would be – the same place he always retreated to cool off, a nearby hill that offered a raised view of both the camp and the river that ran along its base.

"You're too soft," Tyr said as Erik approached, without even turning around. "You have to stop protecting them."

"They are innocent," he countered evenly. "You have to stop being so . . . rough with them."

"The witch allowed the Vindarr to escape on purpose," Tyr said, folding his arms over his chest as he stared out over the camp.

Erik sighed and stepped up next to where his brother stood. "I really doubt that. She didn't push back at all during the last battle. She's just exhausted. This last battle . . . she had only a few hours' rest before you had her out there again." He dropped his hands to his hips, shrugged. "Of course, she was exhausted, she's not a soldier. Hell, she's not even a commoner, Tyr. She's a queen. Manual labor probably isn't something she does on the regular."

Tyr huffed. "Well, she's going to have to figure it out, because now thanks to her, we're gonna have to strike at the Vindarr before they—"

"No."

Tyr finally turned toward Erik, lifting an eyebrow. "No?" he repeated.

"Look," Erik said, "it's going to take the ones that escaped some time to get back to their leader, and then it will take even more time for them to muster their soldiers and come up with a suitable battle plan. If you don't allow the Queen to rest, she isn't going to be of much use at all. If you keep pushing her, though . . . " Erik rubbed the back of his neck. "The right cuff is broken, Tyr."

Tyr jerked his head back and stared at Erik for a long moment before finally shaking his head. "That's impossible, and you know it."

"No," Erik said. "It _should_ be impossible, but clearly, it's not."

"You're mistaken," Tyr said firmly. "Those cuffs can't be broken."

"Tyr, I spent years studying those cuffs, trying to find a way to reproduce them." Erik stepped closer to his brother, ensuring he had the man's full attention. "The etchings, the stones – I know every tiny shift of color and speck within them. And I saw a large fracture running through the center of the right stone, just under the runes. Thankfully, it didn't break any of the runes, so the cuffs are still functional. But if she keeps . . ." He fought to come up with an appropriate word. "Pressing against them, it will break."

Tyr seemed unimpressed. "These cuffs have survived magic users for centuries," he said, turning back toward the camp. "None who came before her has so much as put a dent in these cuffs. How would she be able to break it?"

Erik clenched his jaw and stepped to the side, moving into his brother's field of vision. "She covered her kingdom in twenty feet of ice when she had a _panic_ _attack_. She's a lot stronger than any magic user our people have seen."

"Which should only make the power of the cuffs stronger."

Erik pressed his lips together. "Perhaps in theory, but not so much in practice."

Tyr raised an eyebrow and gestured to Erik to elaborate.

"Think of the cuff like a dam," he said, "and her magic like water. The water hits the dam, and it stops the water from going any further. It uses the water to power itself, so the more water, the stronger the dam. However, the dam can only absorb so much water at a time, so if you throw a tidal wave at something meant to hold back a river, it will get overwhelmed and start to break. The cuffs can't absorb a burst of magic like that fast enough."

Tyr bobbed his head, rubbed at his chin. "And if it breaks?"

Erik resisted the urge roll his eyes. "You beat the crap out of her, then almost cut off her sister's hand. What do you _think_ is going to happen if that cuff breaks?"

Tyr looked up sharply. "Then we should get rid of her now, before she becomes a problem."

"Whoa." Erik threw his hands up and blocked his brother's way as the man turned back to head down the hill toward camp. "You can't kill her. She's a Queen."

"That's not my problem."

"It will be," Erik insisted, "when her kingdom decides to obliterate us for killing their ruler."

"She stole her magic," Tyr argued. "Her kingdom would be better off without her."

"You don't know that."

"She doesn't deserve it."

"And that's for you to decide?" Erik dragged a hand down his face. "She was right. You never had any intention of letting her go after this is done."

"I swore to protect my people," Tyr said, rolling his hands into fists. "No matter the cost."

"Except you aren't paying it, she is." Erik shook his head, trying to grasp what he was hearing. He would walk through fire for his brother, for his people, but Tyr was talking about killing a woman _they_ had dragged into this war, in cold blood. About using her and then discarding her like a spent quiver. He couldn't let Tyr do this but had to find a way to stop his brother without losing him.

He held up his hands. "Look, the cuff is doing what it's supposed to for now, and we still need her to finish this war. Let's take a few days – at least two – and let her rest and recover while we plan for the next battle."

Tyr seemed to consider the suggestion before finally nodding, "Fine, but you better keep her under control until then."

"Fine," Erik said. Considering how dead on her feet the Queen seemed, and how she passed out earlier, he doubted she would require much to be kept under control. "Just do me a favor and leave her be, okay? Don't talk to her, don't even look at her. Same goes for the Princess."


	20. Chapter 20

Elsa slept.

She had no way of knowing for how long, but for the first time in more than a week, it was a deep, restful sleep, blissfully free of dreams or nightmares. During a short moment of consciousness, she considered moving from the cot to her usual spot on the floor but discarded the thought immediately, for multiple reasons. Most importantly, she lacked the energy or desire to force her stiff, sore body to move, but also, she was quite comfortable where she was, with blankets stacked and tucked around her, wrapping her in a cocoon of warmth. The cold might not bother Elsa, but that wasn't to say she didn't enjoy being warm.

She didn't eat at all the first day, purely because she slept through the delivery of all three meals, straight through the night and into the following morning. She managed to stay awake long enough to eat what they brought for lunch then, though she couldn't recall what it was. She woke again for her sister's all too brief visit and immediately after, she slipped back into a deep slumber.

It wasn't until sometime just before Anna's third visit that the exhaustion melted away, to be slowly replaced with a sort of restlessness, enough for Elsa to realize that Alarik hadn't just been a figment of an overtaxed mind. When he and Anna told her that the Admiral was on his way, when he asked for any information she could share, it hadn't been a wishful dream.

The idea made Elsa feel giddy and even more restless. Finally, she pushed herself up from the cot and stood, leaving the blankets in a pool at the end of the narrow bed. Her muscles were sore from the long time sleeping; she wanted to pace and work them out a bit, but the short chain connected to her bindings wouldn't allow for such movement.

The knowledge that there was a rescue currently underway made Elsa felt lighter and more hopeful than she had in the last week or so. Help was on its way. The Sirma might be a formidable foe, but she'd seen them fight; she knew their style, knew they wouldn't be a match. These were warriors while Arendelle was a properly trained military. She also took some comfort in the knowledge that Alarik would be with Anna as much as possible until they were rescued. She knew the man would keep her sister safe, both before and during the fighting.

The only real worry she had was what Tyr would do once the fighting started. The man was calculating, meticulously planning certain things, but he also seemed prone to anger and clearly had a temper. Not to mention a violent streak. Depending on when Arendelle attacked, she would be put directly in Tyr's path, or at least within arm's reach. She needed to be prepared for that risk. Not for the first time, Elsa was frustrated with herself, knowing that without her magic, she was as good as useless in such a situation. How different would this all have turned out if she knew how to defend herself, both with and without her magic. She sighed; there was nothing that could be done about it now.

Elsa chewed her lower lip, wondering if she could convince Erik to let her see her sister. Tyr wouldn't approve, obviously, but there was no reason for the man to know. As far as she knew, he'd been keeping his distance since the night of the last battle. She had no idea why but wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Erik, on the other hand, had been . . . civil up to this point. At least, as much as a captor could be. She would give a try but would have to wait until he returned to the tent and was alone to ask. He usually spent his afternoons working inside, at the large table on the other side of the tent, while Tyr stayed out for most of the day unless he was meeting with the Sirma's version of officers around the same large table.

She was often ignored during those meetings, when battle plans and strategies were created. When she was mentioned, she was referred to as 'the witch.' Elsa listened to the meetings with mild interest – not because she wanted to know what was going on; she didn't care about the Sirma's war – but she found the planning of battles, the strategy and tactics of it, interesting. She couldn't help thinking how similar it was to a game of chess. Perhaps it was something she would investigate when she got back home. The thought brought a smile to her face. It wouldn't be much longer now.

Elsa released a heavy breath and sank to the floor. She leaned against the pole and pulled her legs in close. Until then, there was nothing to do but wait. Wait for Erik to return, wait for her men to rescue her and her sister, wait for all this to be over with.

* * *

Anna was restless, full of an excited sort of energy that was interrupting her sleep and disrupting her usually voracious appetite. It was just as well; she had grown sick of the daily Sirma offering of meat and bread within days of arriving at camp. She craved a substantial meal prepared by the castle kitchen staff, and her mouth watered at the thought. They were so close to the finish line. Mixing with her anticipation of making their way away from here and back home was a lingering worry over Elsa's condition. Anna wrung her hands, thinking of her sister's still too-pale face, her obvious weakness and exhaustion during their visit the day before.

She was happy that Tyr and Erik seemed to be leaving her sister alone now, giving Elsa the opportunity for some much-needed sleep. Or, as happy as one could be in such situation. Maybe they realized Elsa couldn't fight their war for them if they worked her into exhaustion, but she would take it. Soon, very soon, it wouldn't even be an issue. They would both be home in Arendelle, where the most dangerous thing Elsa would have to worry about was politics.

Anna flopped onto her pallet and blew out a frustrated breath. She was pretty sure that the days leading up to a big fight and rescue operation where supposed to be a lot more exciting. At least, they had always been in the books she read, where the hero arrives just in the nick of time to save the day. She shifted uncomfortably at the thought. Maybe boring was better. She didn't want to see her sister, or anyone else, being a part of a save close enough to be classified as just in the nick of time.

She didn't want to dwell on it any further, and was about to push up from the bed to start another circuit of pacing when her ears perked to an approaching voice outside her tent.

"Do I look like I know what's going on?" The man's voice was unfamiliar and tired-sounding. Ambivalent, even. "All I know is that Erik said it was fine, but that someone had to be in there with 'em." After a moment of silence, he added, "so, I guess I get to spend the next half-hour listening to the incessant prattling of wom—Ow!" There was a sound of scuffling, then the man raised his voice. "Why you—"

"Why don't I do it?"

Anna's heart thumped as she heard Alarik's voice interject. "I grew up with two sisters, so I'm pretty good at drowning—that out."

She grinned and stood, tempted to peek through the tent to see what was going on, but didn't want to get herself – or worse, Alarik – in trouble.

"Fine."

"Your shift is over in about an hour, right?" Alarik asked. "Why not head to the mess tent now, and send your relief when you're ready?"

"You sure? You want to be stuck in there for an hour?"

"It's not the worse job I've had, trust me. Plus, you'll owe me a drink later."

The man laughed. "Deal. Have fun," he added, in a tone that suggested it was going to be anything but fun.

Then Anna heard a voice that sent her heart soaring.

"What?" Elsa's voice sounded clear and sharp, nothing like the hushed slur of the last time Anna saw her sister.

"Was it really necessary to kick the man?" Alarik asked.

"I slipped," Elsa responded.

Anna could imagine perfectly the expression her sister must have had in face of such a question. She was practically bouncing as the tent flap was drawn back and Elsa ducked in.

Alarik followed close behind. "You two are going to be the death of me," he muttered.

"Elsa!" Anna was able to keep from tackling her sister in the entranceway of the tent, but it was a close one. She gave Elsa a quick look over, noting that her sister's eyes looked brighter than she had seen them in over a week. The bruises on her cheek and neck had faded into a molted yellowish-brown color and her hands were still bound in front of her, but she looked worlds better than she had a few days ago. It would seem that sleep was a great healer.

"Anna," Elsa breathed out, covering the short distance between them in quick steps. She lifted her arms and looped her bound hands over Anna's head, pulling her in and wrapping her in a tight hug.

Anna returned the hug with such fierceness it was impossible to know who was squeezing harder. She buried her face in her older sister's shoulder and breathed deeply. Somehow, despite not being able to take a bath in a week, her sister still smelled like the forest outside of town on a cold winter morning. Anna rolled her lower lip between her teeth, fighting to keep her tears at bay. She had refused to break down when she was shoved into the cart at the fort, when she was separated from her sister, when Tyr tried to cut off her hand, even when Kristoff and Alarik showed up promising a rescue. She wanted to be strong but standing there with her sister's arms wrapped around her, offering the promise of safety and security like no one else could, it was so hard. She felt the way she had when they were little, when she knew that her big sister was going to make everything okay again just by virtue of _being_ , because there was nothing Elsa couldn't do.

She let it all go; everything that had happened, everything that was still happening. It all came crashing down on Anna, and her fingers tangled in Elsa's dirty tunic as she pulled her sister as close as she could and started to cry into her shoulder.

Elsa rubbed her back, soothing her and whispering soft words, telling her that it would be okay. Like this was nothing more than a bad nightmare or a loud thunderstorm. They stood like that for a long time, until Anna's tears dried up. She hiccupped, tried to apologize.

Her sister lifted her arms to pull out of the hug and immediately, Anna found herself missing the warmth of Elsa's embrace. Elsa cupped her face with both hands, her thumbs brushing away the tears and leaned forward to press her lips against her forehead then shifted to rest her forehead against Anna's. "It's okay, snow bug. You're okay." She planted another kiss on Anna's forehead, something the younger girl would never get tired of. Elsa dropped her hands, taking of Anna's and guiding her over the pallet. She sat heavily, pulling Anna down with her.

Anna wrapped her fingers around Elsa's hand, refusing to let go, and rubbed at her eyes with her other palm. Across the tent, Alarik was sitting at the desk thumbing through the journal she had left there, trying not to intrude on the private moment. "Sorry," she mumbled again, a blush heating her cheeks.

"Anna, it's okay." Elsa squeezed her hand. "Really."

"She's right," Alarik added, apparently feeling the conversation had moved to a place he could safely join in. "You've been through a lot. Both of you have. Honestly, I know soldiers who wouldn't have made it this far without breaking down."

Anna simply shrugged, uncomfortable at his words. She turned to her sister. "How are you doing? You look better. And how did you convince them to let you. . ." She waved a vague hand.

"Off my leash?" Elsa shrugged. "Honestly, I just asked Erik." She pressed her lips together. "Something's wrong, I think. Tyr hasn't bothered me since the last battle, and I've caught Erik looking at me oddly. Like suddenly, he's worried I'm going to do something."

"Might have something to do with what happened the other night," Alarik suggested.

Elsa blinked. "What happened the other night?"

Anna snorted. "You mean besides you telling Tyr off?"

Her sister's eyes widened as she turned to Anna. "I what?"

The genuine confusion in the reaction made her frown. "You told Tyr that he had no honor and that his soldiers were no better than a band of thugs." Elsa continued to look at Anna with disbelief. "Do you really not remember?"

Elsa dropped her gaze to the floor, her brow crinkled. "I don't . . .I remember being really tired on the ride back, and Tyr looking pissed about something. I remember you and Alarik waking me up, telling me the help was coming, then waking up a few hours ago." She bit her lower lip, looking rather upset. She let go of Anna's hand, lifting her own bound ones to press against her eyes. "Everything else is sort of hazy," she said, shaking her head.

"Elsa." Anna turned and placed a hand on her sister's shoulder, waited for the woman to look up. "Elsa, that was two days ago."

"Oh."

She supposed she shouldn't really be surprised things were foggy for Elsa; her sister had barely been able to keep her eyes open that night. In fact, they had to wake her several times in the middle of the conversation. And after that . . . well, Anna didn't know whether to be happy or worried that her sister had unknowingly slept through the past two days.

"You said Erik might be worried because of something that happened that night?" Elsa asked, steering the conversation back on course. "I assume you aren't talking about what I may have said."

Anna couldn't help the small grin that pulled at the corner of her mouth. It really wasn't the time, but she couldn't help feeling comforted, happy even, that her sister was so focused. Elsa almost seemed like her normal self. "You brought down the temperature in the tent and created a layer of ice around your feet that stayed there for hours." When Elsa blinked at her, she added, "without the cuffs reacting."

At Anna's words, Elsa looked down at her wrists and twisted each one, studying the cuffs.

"Do you remember doing that?" her sister asked, breaking Elsa from her thoughts.

She looked up to see not only Anna, but Alarik watching her carefully. "No," she answered honestly, shaking her head. "I . . . I've tried to use my magic before while the cuffs were. . . activated, but I haven't been able to do so much as make a flurry." Elsa rolling her lips against her teeth. "Though . . ."

"Though?" Anna prompted.

"The night Tyr tried to . . . when he—" Elsa couldn't finish the words, didn't want to finish the _thought._ She shook her head and pulled her hands in closer, crossing them around her body the best she could with her restraints.

Alarik leaned forward. "You think that something happened?"

She nodded, loosening the fingers of her right hand. "Since that night, something about the right cuff has felt—off."

"Off how?" Anna asked.

Elsa frowned, reluctant to share what she was thinking. Anna had looked so _happy_ when she entered the tent, and then lost the battle against her stress and worry. The last thing Elsa wanted to do was give her a brand-new reason to fret. But there was no telling what might happen before the Arendelle army arrived, and they deserved to know. She sighed heavily. "It . . . feels like it's absorbing my magic at a faster rate."

Her sister recoiled. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Elsa tilted her head. "When would I have had a chance to?"

"Have you tried using your magic while the cuffs were active since?" Alarik asked, reacting to the information with much less emotion.

"No," Elsa said with a shake of her head. She looked down at the cuff surrounding her right wrist. "I suppose now is as good a time as any." She rubbed the tips of her fingers together, then held her hand out in front of her, palm up. She concentrated on creating a flurry of snow.

When nothing happened, she pressed a little harder, wincing as the cuffs flared with light. Elsa immediately let go of her magic, having no desire to put herself through the pain she knew the cuffs could cause. She let her hands fall back to her lap, her eyes sliding shut as fresh exhaustion washed over her. "I can't," she said softly. "I'm sorry."

"Elsa," Anna said in a quiet voice.

Elsa cracked open her eyes to see both Anna and Alarik looking at the floor. She followed their gaze and found the floor of the tent was now covered in a thin layer of ice. Ice that had bloomed from around her bare feet.

"Okay," Alarik said. "One, remind me to find you some boots. And two, I assume that's not what you were going for."

"Not quite." Elsa said, studying the ring of ice around her feet. A thought formed in her mind, something she wanted to test out before saying anything. She stood up from the bed and walked across the cool floor to the small desk where Alarik sat. She leaned forward and pressed her hands flat against the surface. She took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled. Rather than commanding her magic to do what she wanted, she allowed it seep from her. As she let go, frost began to creep along the surface of the desk, layering itself without any real definition.

Elsa lifted her hands and stepped back from the frost-coated desk. There was no glow emanating from the stones; the cuffs hadn't responded to her use of magic. She could use her magic, but only if she went slow, allowed it to flow naturally like a ribbon of water slipping through a crack in the wall. If she could do that, then she could keep the cuffs from reacting. From stopping and hurting her.

"Not quite enough to be useful, I'm afraid," she said, turning to face a wide-eyed Anna. She smiled. "At least, not yet."

* * *

Anna's heart fluttered as she sat on her pallet, staring at what was left of the frost that had covered the surface of the desk. Elsa could use her magic. It wasn't much, but it was something. Her sister was also looking more energetic and focused then she had since this entire ordeal began. Anna knew it wouldn't last long; already, she could see the subtle cracks in Elsa's mask, the ones that said this second wind of hers was temporary. It was worrying to learn that one of the cuffs was draining her magic faster, and had been for almost a week, but Anna took comfort in the knowledge that it would only be an issue for a little while longer.

They were so close to the end. To _home._

Elsa had been able to give Alarik a lot more intel than she had previously – how the Sirma fought, as well as a more in-depth layout of the camp that Anna herself had provided. It hadn't even occurred to her that her sister had seen more of the camp than she had, considering how strictly Elsa had been confined to the command tent. She had seen whole sections of the camp that Anna hadn't, particularly the roads that led in and out.

Just after nightfall, Alarik came back into the tent to tell Anna he had seen the signal he'd been waiting for, one that meant Naismith was close. He was going to sneak out of camp, a feat far easier than getting in, and meet up with the Admiral to make any last-minute plans for the attack.

"Be careful," he told her in a serious tone. She was to expect action at some point tomorrow night, but when she heard the fighting begin Anna was to stay inside the tent, no matter how much she might want to find her sister, or help. Arendelle was attacking at night, which meant it would be harder to decipher friend from foe.

Anna watched water drip from the edge of the desk and thought about everything her sister had been through.

They were _so_ close to the end.

* * *

Before Kristoff left the Sirma camp, he and Alarik had agreed on a signal. When the military was roughly a day out, they would send Rune to the cliff from which they first spotted the camp. They had debated whether Alarik would join the soldiers or stay within the camp, and in the end, came to a compromise; if Alarik had gathered any extra intel he would join up with the military, and if not, he would send Rune back as a signal of his own that they were ready.

The information the Queen had been able to give him – about Sirma fight tactics as well as information about Tyr and Erik – had seemed important enough to risk leaving the camp to meet with Naismith. He didn't think the Princess was in too much danger; it was the Queen Alarik was worried about. She would be in the direct path of Tyr when the fighting started, and from what Anna had told him as well as what little he had witnessed himself, the man was unpredictable, at best, and prone to aggression. It was important that the Admiral was aware of that, and that they planned carefully to minimize the risk to the Queen.

They were so close; they couldn't risk losing her or Anna down this last stretch.

* * *

Elsa curled her legs closer and rested her hands atop her knees. She felt better, lighter even, after visiting with her sister. She rotated her wrists, studying the stones and runes of the cuffs. She could use her magic. Not enough to do more than create a layer of frost on whatever she was physically touching, and if she pressed too hard against the wall, the cuffs would react, painfully. It was a delicate balance, difficult enough to maintain in the relative calmness of her sister's tent, with only Anna and Alarik standing by. Once the fighting started, Elsa wasn't sure she'd be able to maintain a calm enough mind to keep from pressing too hard.

She let her eyes slip closed and rested her head against the pole behind her as a subtle wave of tiredness fell over her. Once the army took the camp, someone would have to get the key to her cuffs from Tyr. Whether or not he gave it over willingly wasn't a concern, assuming they even gave him the chance to resist. Elsa hoped the key wouldn't just deactivate the stones but would release the bands from around her wrists altogether. The skin underneath was becoming itchy, and felt rubbed raw.

Already, she found her mind preoccupied with would happen in the aftermath of this confrontation, when the dust settled. Elsa had no doubt that, regardless of what she did, other countries would eventually find out what happened, and the part she had played in this relatively minor war. The information was bound to make its way across the sea, through diplomats, spies, or just people giving into idle gossip. News like this always got out. It meant that what the Queen did after would set the example of how Arendelle responded to outside threats. If she was too harsh, other countries would certainly take notice, and all the work she had been putting into convincing them she had no intention of using her magic against them could fall to pieces. If she was too lenient, they would likely think her weak, easily manipulated and taken advantage of.

Elsa would not allow Arendelle to be viewed as weak, nor could she let it be seen as a threat that may need to be neutralized. She had options, but she'd have to choose her actions and words carefully. She supposed there was little point in obsessing over it now, before they even knew who would be left standing after the coming battle. There was always a chance she would be killed in the fighting; in which case, the aftermath would no longer be her worry.

It was a morbid thought, but a very realistic one.

Elsa's thoughts were interrupted when she felt more than saw a shadow fall over her. She cracked her eyes open to see who had entered the tent, and her heart thudded against her chest.

* * *

Anna wrapped her arms around herself as she paced a small circuit in her tent. She had been allowed to see her sister briefly that day, and had been reminded all over again how seamless Elsa's mask could be. Nothing about her expression or posture gave away the eagerness and restlessness Anna _knew_ her sister had to be feeling. The only brief crack she'd seen was the flash of curiosity that touched Elsa's face as she took notice that the guard escorting Anna was Sirma, and not Alarik.

Anna had wished there was a way she could tell her sister that Arendelle was coming tonight, but they were so close, and she couldn't risk something slipping that would tip off the Sirma.

She paced another circuit, her fingers digging into the sleeves of her shirt. She wished she was with Elsa instead of separated. She was worried what could happen. Her sister had some magic but not a lot, and little use of her hands. Her worry twisted her gut until she felt nauseated. Anna stopped, drawing deliberate, slow breaths as she worked to calm her quickly fraying nerves.

There had been noises outside her tent not long ago, but when she tried to get a peek, she was blocked from seeing anything by the giant guard standing directly outside. Anna took some comfort in knowing that whatever was going on, it sounded small. Like a scouting party heading out. There had been many such groups over the past week, and oftentimes Tyr rode with them. She thought it odd that they were going out just after dark, only to realize that if Tyr was absent from the camp when the Arendellians attacked, that only worked in their favor. It meant the key to Elsa's cuffs was with him, but also that the only person who would be in the tent with Elsa during the attack was Erik. He was far less likely to act out violently just because he could.

Anna was about to start another circuit when she heard new sounds outside her tent, a muted scuffle and a grunt, then footsteps moving in multiple directions. She stepped toward the entrance only to hesitate. Alarik had warned her to stay inside, lest someone mistake her for one of the Sirma.

She wrung her hands together, debating, before finally shaking her head. If it meant making sure her sister was okay, then it was worth the risk. Anna tugged open the tent flap and immediately collided with a broad chest.

"I told him, you wouldn't stay in the tent."

* * *

Alarik kept to the shadows as he slinked back into camp. He had wanted to personally collect the Queen and secure her, but Naismith had sent another officer instead. Since he was the one most familiar with the layout of the camp, Alarik was to lead several companies of soldiers further in and take the bulk of the Sirma force, who were sleeping in a group of tents on the south side of camp, by surprise. It had to be done quickly and carefully to ensure the soldiers didn't have a chance to fight back, made slightly more complicated by the Queen's orders to take as many as possible without killing them. She had agreed, however, that if they fought back, all bets were off. She would not sacrifice her people for the sake of her enemy.

Alarik led the soldiers deep into the camp, easily avoiding the patrol route he had committed to memory. They moved silently and quickly into the area. In the end, the Sirma hadn't resisted; waking up to find someone holding a sword or crossbow to your throat went a long way towards discouraging fighting back. There had been some minor scuffles, men who refused to surrender despite the fact they were surrounded. Two of Alarik's men sustained minor injuries, and the Sirma now had five less soldiers to fight their war.

Once the dust settled, Alarik left one of the lieutenants to round up and secure those that had surrendered. He stopped long enough to make sure his men were seen to by the unit's medic, then quickly made his way toward the Sirma command tent, where he knew Arendelle's royal sisters would be.

He skidded to a stop as he nearly ran into Kristoff, with Anna walking next to him. Both looked anxious, but Alarik gave Kristoff a look. The ice harvester was supposed to keep Anna in her tent until everything was settled, and there were still faint sounds of fighting somewhere in the camp.

Kristoff shrugged. "I told you."

Alarik shook his head, knowing there was little point in arguing with the stubborn princess. He followed the two the short distance to the command tent. Admiral Naismith, sword in hand, joined them from another direction. Blood dripped from the end of his weapon.

He bowed his head toward Anna. "Your Highness. I'm glad to see you're okay."

Anna stopped in front of him, her gaze flicking to the command tent. "Elsa?"

One of the officers emerged from the tent at that moment, saving the Admiral from answering. "The Queen?" Naismith asked of the man.

The look the officer offered the group sent Alarik's stomach plummeting, and his words were like a shot through the heart.

"She's not here, sir."


	21. Chapter 21

"What do you mean, she's not here?" Naismith bit out, in a quiet but sharp tone that under any other circumstances would have sent chills down Anna's spine. Now, she was just trying to concentrate on continuing to breathe through the sudden tightness in her chest.

_Elsa._

"Then, where is she?"

Another barked question from the Admiral brought Anna back to herself, and to the present. She cursed herself for losing focus and missing part of the conversation.

"I don't know, sir," the officer said. He was pale and wide-eyed, knowing that he was facing a group of people who wanted much better, thorough answers. "I have men scouring the camp. We managed to capture one of the Sirma leaders. He surrendered without a fight."

Anna's gaze snapped toward the officer before shifting to the tent behind him. "Erik," she breathed. She pushed past the group and forced her way into the Sirma command tent, ignoring their shouts to stop. To wait.

Elsa wasn't here. There was no waiting.

Once inside, Anna sent her gaze on a quick circuit of the interior. The cot Elsa had slept on was empty, and a chain was pooled at the base of the pole next to it. In the center of the tent was Erik, on his knees with his arms bound behind him and two Arendellian soldiers flanking him.

She quickly covered the space between them, and the soldiers snapped to attention at her approach. "Erik, where is Elsa?"

He looked up at her with a surprisingly calm expression and held her gaze for a moment before looking over her shoulder. He snorted. "I knew you weren't one of mine."

Anna followed his gaze and saw that Alarik had entered the tent and was standing behind her. "Erik," she snapped as she turned back to the man, doing her best to imitate her sister's commanding tone. "Where is my sister?"

Erik likewise slid his gaze back to her. His expression remained steely. "Not here. She's with Tyr."

"And where is that?" she asked through gritted teeth, attempting to keep her temper in check.

Erik opened his mouth, but as the others entered the tent to join Alarik, he snapped it shut with a thoughtful look. After a moment, he said, "I will tell you, but only if you promise not to hurt my brother."

"You can't be serious." Alarik scoffed. "After what he did to the Queen? The Princess? I think his being brought back mostly alive is the best you can request. And even that's pushing it."

"Then I bid you good luck in finding her."

"Your Highness," the Admiral said in a loud voice, "Let my men have five minutes alone with him. I will get the information."

Anna turned to Naismith with a frown. It took her a moment to realize that he was asking for her permission. It struck her with painful clarity that with Elsa absent, she was charge. Suddenly, the weight of what Naismith was asking landed on her shoulders, and Anna found that she couldn't bring herself to give the okay to torture a man for information. She shook her head. "No," she said. "Give us a few minutes."

"Your Highness - "

"Alone," Anna said firmly, giving the command. She tilted her head and then added, "Alarik can stay."

"Anna?"

She turned to Kristoff, who looked stung. Part of her wanted him to be by her side so she could take comfort in his presence, but Kristoff was too invested in her wellbeing and safety. Anna didn't want him to know the things that might come up in the ensuing conversation. Alarik had already witnessed some of what had happened to her and had seen the aftermath of the rest. He was also a soldier, and she knew as such his priority would always be the current ruler of Arendelle, no matter who it was. "I'll be okay," she told Kristoff with a small smile. "I promise."

Naismith pressed his lips into a thin line but nodded. He gestured to the two soldiers standing guard to clear out. "They will be just outside the tent if you need anything," he said before following them out.

Kristoff paused at the tent's flap to give her one last look, then also ducked out.

Anna waited a moment, collecting herself, then knelt in front of Erik. "If you knew Alarik wasn't Sirma, why didn't you say anything?"

"I had my suspicions," he said. "But I can't possibly know the face of every soldier."

"Still," Anna pressed. "Why didn't you question Alarik? Or say something to Tyr?"

"If I had said something to my brother," Erik replied evenly, "if he thought there was even the slightest chance of an attack coming, he would have killed Queen Elsa without a second thought." His gaze softened. "I didn't want to risk that on a chance."

Anna frowned, confused by the man in front of her. Erik seemed to disagree with what his brother had done to them, but still followed him without hesitation. She had to know. "After everything he has done, why do you still protect him?"

Erik lifted a shoulder. "He's my brother," he said simply. "What would you do for your sister?"

Anything. Everything. "That's different," Anna said. "My sister isn't forcing people to fight a war for her."

"He is risking the lives of two people. How many people were put in danger when Queen Elsa froze her kingdom?"

Anna recoiled. "That was an accident."

"You think that makes it better?" Erik shook his head. "At least what Tyr is doing he does knowingly and in full control. Your sister nearly destroyed her kingdom in the midst of a panic attack."

"So, you think my sister's mistakes justify your brother's actions?" Anna spat. "What he did to her? What he almost did to me?"

"When Queen Elsa froze her kingdom, people thought she was a monster. That she should be treated as one." Erik narrowed his gaze. "But you didn't. All you saw was your sister who was scared and struggling with something she couldn't control. You had faith in her, Anna. After everything that happened, you still believed in her. How is what I want any different?"

"Because Tyr is a monster."

"From an outsider's perspective. You see a monster, but all I see is my brother. My brother who is trying to do right by his people and is doing it the only way he knows how."

Anna sat back on her heels, at a loss for words. She didn't want to believe what Erik was saying, refusing to acknowledge that Tyr and Elsa were anything alike. But maybe she and Erik weren't so different. They both wanted the same thing, didn't they? To protect the only family they had left.

She sighed. "Fine. I promise my men won't hurt your brother. But," she added, "if he resists and fights back, or threatens Elsa, they will be forced to respond in kind."

Erik considered her words. "Okay," he said with a nod. "I'll tell you."

"Thank you," she said, though it felt weird thanking her pervious captor for disclosing the location of her sister. Anna turned to Alarik and gestured for him to bring the others back in. Naismith and Kristoff filed inside, joined by Captain Jogeir, who had a bandage spotted with red wrapped around his upper arm.

"Your Highness," he greeted, dipping his chin.

She offered him a tight, stressed smile, then turned back to Erik. "Where are they?" she asked again.

"We got information this afternoon," Erik said, rolling his shoulders. "from one of our scouts, that the Vindarr were moving their supply line. The path they were on would lead them through a gorge about a half a day's ride from here."

"How many soldiers does he have with him?" Naismith asked, arms folded over his broad chest.

Erik shook his head. "Not many. I think he took four, and the Queen. He wanted to break their supply line, use the Queen's magic to trap them in the gorge. A hit and run, he said. Travel light, get out fast. Based on the time they left, they should be reaching the gorge shortly."

"Where is the gorge?" the Admiral asked.

Erik looked toward the table on the right side of the tent, where Anna knew a map was. She turned to one of the guards. "Let him up. You can untie him, too."

"Your highness—"

"He is a room full of military officers," Anna interrupted, silencing Naismith. "He won't try anything." She looked back to Erik, raising an eyebrow.

"On my honor," Erik replied.

Alarik snorted but made no other comment, choosing to escort the man himself over to the table.

Erik leaned over the map, studying it for a moment before pointing to a specific mark. "This is the gorge. There's a small stream that runs through it, though it's usually frozen this time of year." His fingertip shifted to a different spot on the map, trailing along a faint line. "This is the trail they'll take, and the pass here is the only way to the gorge right now."

Anna looked down at the map, chewing her lip and wondering where on it her sister was at this moment. If she was still riding. If they had arrived at their destination. She couldn't help but feel relieved from the knowledge that Elsa wasn't riding into another battle. It would only be her, four Sirma soldiers, and Tyr. Depending on when they arrived, the cuffs might even already be deactivated.

"All right, Alarik," Naismith said, "You're with me. Gather ten men and enough horses for everyone. I want to get out there as fast as possible."

"I'm coming," Anna stated as firmly as possible, squaring her shoulders.

"Your Highness," Jogeir implored. "I beg you not to. It's not safe."

"My sister is out there," she pressed. "I'm going. It's not up for discussion." Once more, Anna strived to channel her sister.

The Captain pursed his lips, and Anna counted it as a victory.

"Allow me to come, as well," Erik said, his gaze on Anna. "Tyr isn't going to surrender. I know him. He'll try to fight, and he isn't above fighting dirty. As you know. But if I can talk to him, maybe I can get him to back down without any more bloodshed."

Anna considered his words carefully. There was a chance he would try something, but despite everything that had happened, she oddly found herself trusting the man. At least, enough to know Erik just wanted to protect his brother and his people.

* * *

Anna watched as sunlight broke and crawled across the horizon, soft light framing the mountains in the distance. A layer of snow covered the ground and the edges of the stream running along the side of the trail were lined with ice crystals, the water rushing past just below. Anna pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders, trying to retain some warmth. It was a crisp fall morning, the kind her sister loved. At least, that's what Elsa had told her once, when they were drinking hot cocoa late one night in front of the fire in Anna's room. She'd not had the chance to witness her sister enjoying such a day; this was their first Autumn together in thirteen years. She wondered what Elsa would think of the view, if she'd have the look of childlike awe she used to have when they were younger, or if she'd take it all in with that quiet, reserved grace she did everything with these days.

Anna's heart skipped to think that she might find out in just a few hours.

She, Alarik, Admiral Naismith, and Kristoff were riding out to the gorge along with Erik and another ten soldiers. It might be overkill, but the Admiral hoped they would be able to overwhelm Tyr with their numbers and entice him to surrender Elsa without a fight. Assuming Erik was telling the truth when he said his brother had taken only four men with him.

Of course, if Elsa had use of her magic then it would be a moot point. Her sister would be able to wipe the floor with Tyr, and after everything he'd done, Anna doubt the woman would hesitate. She might be reluctant to kill him, but maiming was a whole different story. One Anna fully supported.

They had started out riding hard and fast, making good time across the open plains. Once they hit the rocky trails, the one that would lead into the mountain pass and eventually take them along the top of the gorge where Tyr had been heading, they were forced to slow down. The trail was too narrow and the ground to unsteady for the horses to traverse quickly, so they moved two by two, at a brisk walk. It had been a mostly quiet ride, each person's thoughts occupied by various things.

Anna fidgeted. Tugged at her oversized gloves, pulled her cloak even tighter around her.

"You cold?"

Anna offered Kristoff a soft smile. "A little, but I'm okay. Times like this, I can't help but be jealous of Elsa's inability to feel the cold."

"You mean her indifference to it?"

"What?"

"She can feel the cold," Kristoff said in a low voice, trying to keep the discussion private despite the many people around them. "She knows when it's cold, but it doesn't bother her. Like going outside on a crisp morning." The last part he said like he was reciting something he'd been told.

Anna blinked. "How do you know that?"

"She told me," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "A few days before you both left, I was out in the stable getting Sven ready to go into the mountains. Some ropes I had left out had a layer of ice over them. She must have heard my . . . uh, cursing. She melted the ice and then helped me untangle the rope. We started talking, got on the subject of ice and the coming winter, and it . . . came up."

He shrugged as if it were no big deal, but Anna knew better. It was a very big deal, for both her sister and for Kristoff. Her favorite two people, the two people in her life who were painfully slow about letting people in. She wanted to make a big deal out of it, but she knew Kristoff, and she knew Elsa, and she knew that making any kind of thing out of this exchange would only cause the two of them to shy away from each other. So, Anna contained her excitement.

They fell back into a comfortable silence and rode for another hour before the pass opened. The left side of the trail dropped off, a sheer twenty-foot cliff taking its place. This was the gorge, where Elsa and Tyr were supposed to be. The quiet stillness of the area was unsettling. Anna had expected more noise, sounds and signs of life. But there was . . . nothing, and it left a coldness in Anna's stomach that had nothing to do with the chilly fall morning.

The Admiral and Alarik were riding at the front of the group, followed by Erik and another soldier, then Kristoff and herself, the rest of the soldiers bringing up their rear.

Alarik twisted in his saddle, looking back to Erik. "This the place?"

Erik nodded. "He wouldn't have gone too far down, we should be appro—" Erik suddenly stiffened.

Anna stretched her neck, trying to see what he was looking at, but couldn't see the path ahead of them, and she was boxed in by the cliff on the left and the thick woods to the right. "What's wrong?" she asked, struggling to keep the concern from her voice.

Alarik faced forward in his saddle. "Shit." He drew his horse to a halt, twisting back around to the soldiers behind them. "Dismount and approach with caution."

"Alarik," Anna snapped. "What's going on?"

Alarik didn't respond. He and the Admiral dismounted and pulled their horses to the side of the trail, finally giving Anna a view of the area ahead of them. She could see multiple bodies, soldiers, laying on the ground, the snow around them stained red. Her heart slammed into her throat and she all but jumped off her horse. She hurried past the group, toward the carnage.

"Anna, wait!" Kristoff called after her.

She ignored him, her gaze jumping from one figure to another as she searched for the one person that she both hoped to find and prayed wasn't among those laying here. She counted six bodies, all men. "What happened here?" she breathed. Anna felt sick to her stomach. There was so much blood.

"Check for survivors," someone called.

She couldn't place the voice, not around the odd buzzing in her ears. Anna found herself unable to think about anything but the sheer amount of blood staining the snow, the unnatural twist of limbs. It didn't matter that these men were her enemies. They were people; they had lives, and homes. Families.

A hand wrapped around her arm and yanked her backward, turning her away from the gruesome scene.

"Anna." Kristoff cupped her face in his large hands. "Hey, you with me?"

It took her another moment before she could focus, then she nodded against his hands. "I'm okay," she said. "We have to find Elsa."

"We will," he assured her.

Despite the confidence in Kristoff's tone, Anna didn't feel comforted. It felt like the world was determined to keep her away from her sister. But she knew she couldn't lose hope. They would find Elsa. Alive, and well. There was no other option.

She wrapped her hands around Kristoff's and pulled away. She turned back to the scene, breathing deeply, trying to settle her stomach.

"Sir!" One of the guards called to either Alarik or Admiral, or perhaps both.

Anna followed them, wanting to see what had caught his attention. It was a jut of ice, sticking straight up from the ground and reaching to her hip. The top was jagged, like something had slammed through it. Behind it, snow and dirt mixed, the earth looking like it had been ripped up from the ground.

"Are we sure that's the Queen's ice?" Naismith asked, his face creasing.

Kristoff stepped close to the wall, studying it. Anna already knew it was; she could feel it in her bones but waited to see what Kristoff would say.

"It's hers," he said. "Natural ice isn't this flawless, nor does it form this way."

Alarik straightened, casting his gaze around the area. Aside from the bodies, there was no one around. Everything was quiet. "Fan out, look for any tracks or footprints. Anything that might tell us where they went."

Anna wrung her hands in front of her as she stared down at the men in the snow. She wasn't a soldier or a tracker, and she didn't know how to tell animal tracks from humans beyond the obvious. She figured she could still be useful; it was doubtful any of the soldiers were still alive, but someone needed to check. She walked to the nearest man and knelt next to the body. She pulled off one of her gloves and pressed her fingers against the man's throat, looking for any sign of life. There was none, though she hadn't expected there to be.

Hands trembling faintly, she moved to the next fallen soldier, and then the next. Each result was the same as the last, and as she moved through the line, she realized they were all dressed similarly. Anna stood and sought out Erik. She noticed that he had done the same thing as her, at a much slower pace.

Of course, she realized. These were his people. Maybe even his friends. Anna wanted to give him some privacy, but neither Tyr nor Elsa were among the fallen, which meant her sister was somewhere, and there had clearly been a confrontation here. Elsa had obviously been a part of it, had fought someone. There was upturned earth and shattered ice all around the area. Time for private grieving wasn't something they had.

"Erik," she called across the way, waiting until she had his attention. "Are they all Sirma?" He told them that Tyr took four men along, but there were six bodies here.

Erik looked down at each of the fallen. He shook his head. "No. Two of them are Vindarr." He walked over to one of the bodies that was separated from the group. Anna followed, and as she drew near, she saw that there was a layer of ice spread across the man's chest, radiating out from a spot just below his sternum. She squinted and stepped closer, noting that at the center point of the ice was what looked like a crystal, one hanging from a leather cord around the man's neck.

The crystal itself seemed unremarkable, but it appeared to be shattered, splinters of crystal ripped and stuck within the explosion of ice. The cord it hung from was frayed where the ice had cut into it. Anna felt drawn to the crystal, wanting to get a closer look at it. Of course, with the way it was caught in the ice, she would have to dig it out from the dead man's collapsed chest, and that wasn't something she was jumping to do.

She was about to give up and move on, but Erik sucked in a sharp breath as he dropped to one knee on the opposite side.

"What," she asked, a sudden worry filling her gut.

Erik dragged a hand down his face, which had paled considerably. "There's something you don't know," he said. "About the Sirma, and the Vindarr."


	22. Chapter 22

Elsa set her jaw and extended her hands in front of her, preparing to send an artic blast down into the gorge.

Earlier in the day, she had overheard a discussion about pushing to end this war in a few strategic strikes, starting with cutting off the Vinadrr's supply line. So, she hadn't been surprised when Tyr's soldiers retrieved her from the command tent only a few hours later, and they headed out once more. This time, however, it wouldn't be into battle, but Elsa was even more uncomfortable with what Tyr was asking her to do. To bury these unsuspecting men in an avalanche of snow, to kill an entire company traveling through a gorge, with no chance to escape or defend themselves.

She had spent the half-day's ride trying to come up with a better strategy, some way to cut the supply line without having to kill these soldiers. She didn't want their blood on her hands, but couldn't deny that, at this point, her hands were already soaked in their blood, even indirectly. The thought didn't make Elsa any more comfortable, but these men were going to die no matter what she did now. Whether by her own hand, the creeping cold, or the Sirma standing behind her.

She reminded herself that Arendelle's Army was coming, that they were so close to the end.

Elsa took a deep breath, allowing ice to collect at her outstretched fingertips. An odd, earthly rumble behind her broke her concertation, and she turned just in time to throw up a wall of ice and block the first grape shot hurting toward her and the four Sirma soldiers. She shifted the ice to block the majority of the small projectiles coming their way, but more than one made it through. A shot clipped the top of the wall before striking one of the soldiers. He grunted in pain and stumbled back, clutching his shoulder. The ball hadn't hit him hard enough to cause permanent damage, but Elsa was sure it would leave a heck of a bruise.

When the shot had stopped, she let the wall drop. A short distance away stood multiple Vindarr soldiers. Her roving gaze jumped from face to face, and she counted at least ten. She adjusted her stance and threw a burst of icy wind to push them back and slow them down. Just before the blast hit them, the ground in front of the Vindarr exploded upward, forming a wall of stone. The icy gust slammed into the rock and dissipated harmlessly. Elsa watched, shocked. It took far longer than it should for her brain to catch up with what had just happened. When it did, her stomach plummeted to the ground.

The Vindarr had magic.

She had no time to further explore the thought. The stone wall crumbled, and a rushing wave of water barreled toward them. Elsa reacted quickly, throwing her hands toward the wave. The water froze as it swelled over them and then shattered. With a twist of her wrists, she sent the splinters of ice back toward the Vindarr.

All but two of the Vindarr soldiers rushed forward, only to be met by Tyr and his own men. The sides clashed together in a cacophony of clangs and shouts, but Elsa's attention was directed at the two Vindarr who hadn't joined the fray. The two who were wielding magic. They appeared unarmed, but even from this distance she could see that they both wore brightly glowing crystals on cords around their necks. One pendant glowed yellow, the other blue. There was a low, piercing sound that picked up, almost like a faint scream of pain. The sound grated her ears, made her grit her teeth, but she couldn't tell where it was coming from.

Elsa shook her head and squared her shoulders. She was not going to wait for them to make the next move. She sent a cascade of ice across the ground toward the Vindarr casters, and they jumped to the side to evade the attack. She was ready for it, and the ground around them exploded in icy spikes as she raised her hand. The caster wearing the yellow crystal managed to narrowly avoid being skewered, but the one of the spikes cut through the meat of the blue caster's calf.

Elsa could hear Tyr and the other soldiers moving behind her, the clash of swords echoing painfully close to where she stood, but she knew he wouldn't dare come close enough to enter her line of fire, worried that she'd use it as an excuse to 'accidently' kill or wound him. She couldn't say his instincts were wrong.

Face twisted in pain, the blue caster wrapped his hand around the glowing crystal hanging from his neck, and the low scream increased in volume, until Elsa winced. The ground beneath her feet grew muddy and slippery, and her balance was taken as her feet sank into the mud. She scrambled to block a rush of water heading toward her, forming a V-shaped wall to channel the wave around her.

Elsa pushed her hands forward, and the wall blasted outward, a barrage of ice sent toward the water caster, the source of that persistent, grating sound. The ice impacted the center of his chest and exploded. The man released strangled yell of pain as he fell backwards. When he struck the ground, he didn't make a move to get back up. The noise that was putting her on edge lessened, but didn't disappear entirely.

She heard the twang of a crossbow releasing, and something coming at her out of the corner of her eye. She twisted, creating a protective wall of ice around her, it was thinner than she had wanted. Still, it stopped the arrow. Before she could make another move, something shattered through the wall and slammed into her stomach with the force of a small boulder.

Air left Elsa's lungs in a rush as she fell backward, impacting the snow-covered dirt and sliding. She pressed her arms around her stomach, struggling to draw a breath. The ground shifted beneath her, rock formations appearing on either side. They shot upward, rising and curving above her to meet in the middle. Her heart stopped in her chest as blinding darkness surrounded her.

She felt out the immediate area, her fingertips scraping against rough rock. She could feel the sheet of frost beginning to stretch and cover the rock around her as her magic reacted to her rising panic. Every breath was a struggle as Elsa fought to pull in air around the pain in her stomach. The inability to see, to breathe, the realization she was surrounded by solid rock, it all increased the anxiety inside until it threatened to push her over the edge. She laid both hands flat against the rock and channeled her ice to freeze the barrier enough to crack it. She didn't even know if it was possible, if she could drop the rock to a temperature low enough to shatter.

When the temperature of the rock dropped to below freezing but remained whole, Elsa switched up her strategy, tried instead to flood ice into the tiny pores in the stone surface. She closed her eyes, feeling the ice seep through the smallest fissures in the rock, and pressed against it slowly, making them bigger as she attempted to shatter the rock.

It was taking too long; Elsa was having a hard time reining in the panic caused by the suffocating darkness and the enclosed space. She forced air in and out through her nose, attempting to control her breathing. Suddenly, the tiny space exploded in blinding light and a familiar, terrifying pain shot through her arms as her magic stopped flowing.

"No, no, no, no, no." Every muscle constricted in panic and Elsa's throat closed, choking off her air. She pressed her hands harder against the rough stone, trying to force her magic past the wall blocking her. She clenched her jaw tightly, her breath coming in quick, barely controlled gasps as pain increased in her arms. She used the panic and terror of the claustrophobic space to fuel her magic and slammed it roughly against the wall, beating against it like a violent ocean swell. The pain rocketing through her arms increased to a mind-numbing level right before she heard a splinter, felt an accompanying fiery burst of agony ignite within her right arm. Her chest lit with fire, and every nerve in her body seared with pain.

She bit through her lip, coppery blood flooding her mouth, as she fought desperately to maintain a hold on her magic and press harder against the wall. Every muscle in her body spasmed from the force of the pressure being put on it. She felt it as the wall gave just slightly, a soft crack echoing throughout the tiny space as an answering pain shot through her left arm. The lance of pain raced into her chest, and her control shattered against the wave, and Elsa lost her tenuous grip on her magic. Her head slammed against the rock under her as her back arched, and she felt something inside her snap.

Elsa screamed.

The agony was so pure and complete that it quickly became more than she could bear. Even though she had lost the hold on her magic the cuffs remained lit, their power eagerly devouring whatever magic she had built up against the wall. She lost all concept of time, couldn't tell if it had been minutes, hours, or seconds. Just when she feared she would go mad from the pain, it began to subside. The cuffs slowly dimmed, leaving her once more in complete darkness.

Aftershocks tore through her spent body, muscles spasming, but the lingering pain was negligible compared to the agony she had just endured. Elsa struggled to draw any air into her protesting lungs, and her fingers continued to clumsily scrape against the rock as she searched for a way out. Her strength was quickly failing, exhaustion and lack of oxygen threatening to drown her entirely. A whimper escaped her numb, bloody lips as she too easily lost the struggle and sank into the waiting abyss.

* * *

She returned to consciousness in stages.

The first time, she had a foggy sense of being lifted, carried. There were voices – talking, arguing, and loudly – but she couldn't concentrate enough to understand what was being said, and she slipped backward into the inky blackness.

The next time she woke, Elsa could tell that she was laying on something flat, hard. She had a vague sense of rocking side to side, like she was on a boat. She tried to open her eyes, but they were gummy and stuck together, and when she attempted to raise her hands to rub at them, they stopped short, unable to lift more than an inch or so. The harsh, familiar clang of metal against metal grated against her ears. _Chains._

Footsteps echoed hollowly off to one side, moving toward her. Fingers gripped her jaw, digging in painfully and forcing her mouth open. Something was shoved between her teeth and Elsa found herself choking as a sickeningly sweet liquid poured down her throat. She writhed and bucked against the hands holding her, but her slow, sluggish body was no match for the iron-tight grip.

When she had choked down at least half of whatever she was being force-fed, the bruising grip let up. Elsa tried to roll to her side as she coughed and gagged, but couldn't move. Her mind grew foggy, slow. She couldn't concentrate, couldn't think, and felt herself surrendering once more to the darkness.

The third time she woke up, it was with slightly clearer head. Elsa quickly took stock; her cheek was resting against a hard, cool surface which she eventually identified as a stone floor. She dragged a hand up, her knuckles scraping against the stone, and pressed her fingers against her eyes. She rubbed away the gunk of sleep that was gluing her eyelids shut, and blinked a few times until her vision cleared. She pushed herself up onto her knees, slowly, and cast a gaze around the room. The room was small, with a roughhewed stone floor and walls that framed three sides. The fourth consisted of iron bars that ran from floor to ceiling.

_A dungeon cell,_ Elsa realized heavily. She dropped her chin to her chest, her hands cradling her aching head. The military was coming. Alarik had been there, bringing a rescue. She had been so close. Right there on the precipice of the end.

So close.

She wrapped her arms around her stomach, disappointed to see the cuffs still wrapped around each wrist, giving off the soft glow that meant they were still working as designed. Elsa couldn't decide whether she wanted to cry or scream, despair and rage fighting for control. She held on to the rage. It was a safer emotion, one she could use, could mold into a weapon.

"Finally awake."

A hoarse, nearby voice drew her attention.

"Took ya long enough."

Elsa squinted at the dim area on the other side of the bars, where a figure sat slouched against the wall in the cell across from her. It took a moment to realize the figure was Tyr, though the man looked worse for wear. As her eyes adjusted to the sparse lighting, she could see he was favoring his side, that bruises covered more than half his face. _Good,_ she thought. _See how he likes being on the receiving end._

She recoiled from the viciousness of her own thoughts, knowing she shouldn't take pleasure, or even satisfaction, in someone else's pain. Even if that man was her enemy. But Elsa was tired; she had been drugged, abused, and forced to fight in a war that had nothing to do with her. All because of Tyr.

"Where are we?" she asked him, turning away from the dark thoughts. The hoarseness of her own voice took her by surprise.

Tyr snorted. "Welcome to Hasvik," he said, spreading his arms wide.

"Should I know what that is?"

Tyr dropped his arms, wrapping one around his waist. He winced as he adjusted his position against the wall. "Hasvik is the frozen, gods forsaken island the Vindarr call home."

_Of course._ The Vindarr had attacked them at the gorge, had trapped her inside a rock tomb with magic she hadn't been prepared for. Elsa shuddered at the memory, her breath hitching as she was momentarily transported back to that enclosed space.

She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the memory. "What are they going to do with us?"

Tyr tilted his head. "Most likely kill me, once they've had their fill of torture and beatings. You, on the other hand." He looked at her thoughtfully, in a way that made Elsa feel distinctly uncomfortable. Like she was nothing more than an object. "Markkus will most certainly be interested in your magic."

"Markkus?"

"The leader of the Vindarr tribe."

The Vindarr were the enemy of the Sirma, and Elsa didn't care one iota about their war. She was no threat to them, as long as they let her go. She knew nothing about them, but it was worth a shot to try to appeal to their leader, this Markkus.

"If you are hoping to ally with the Vindarr," Tyr said, interrupted her thoughts like he could read her mind, "I doubt they're gonna offer you a deal you'll like."

Elsa frowned. "Why are you telling me this? Since taking me prisoner, you've barely said anything to me that wasn't an order."

Tyr shrugged, then winced, adjusting the arm around his middle. "Because, what I did to you? To your sister? It's nothing compared to what Markkus is gonna do."


	23. Chapter 23

Elsa's ears perked to the sound of approaching footsteps, and she pushed herself to her feet as quickly and smoothly as she was able. Her limbs still felt muddy, her body stiff and uncooperative, but she was not about to face any of the Vindarr seated on a dirty floor. A bit unsteadily, she rotated herself toward the iron bars and lifted her chin.

The guards said nothing as they approached the cell and unlocked the door. Then stepped aside, giving her a wide berth to exit.

She watched them carefully as she stepped out into the hallway. Once there, she hesitated. It had been full weeks since Elsa had been permitted to move about freely, without being restrained in some way, or forced along. She knew next to nothing about the Vindarr, and did not want to do anything that might provoke them while she was still feeling them out.

To her surprise, neither guard had shackles in hand, or even so much as attempted to touch her. Instead, one stepped forward, while the other simply gestured for Elsa to follow.

She fell in step behind them and the group moved silently through the dim dungeon. Elsa took advantage of her halted, stiff movements, using the extra time to take in as much detail of her surroundings as she could. The same roughhewed stone appeared to make up each cell along the corridor, and mounted torches threw flickering light across the dark stone. She followed the guards up a narrow spiral staircase that opened into a wider hallway, an area lit with sunlight streaming in through several large windows, and more torches placed at regular intervals. As they walked along the winding hallway, Elsa couldn't help but be impressed by the sheer size of the place, and wondered not only about how many people must be living on Hasvik, but how she had never heard of them before. They weren't too far north of her own kingdom's borders.

The guard stopped in front of a door and knocked once before opening it. He immediately stepped to the side and looked at Elsa expectedly.

She took a deep breath, working to calm her frayed nerves and mentally prepare herself for whatever might happen once she stepped over the threshold. When she did, she found herself entering a room that was smaller than the hallway outside would have suggested. To her left was a roaring fire, with a dark wood table placed in front, just large enough to comfortably seat four. The tabletop was covered with plates of food, and Elsa's mouth watered just from the sight. Tall windows took up most of the far wall, and through the glass she could hear the whipping wind, a low, whining tone. A desk made from the same dark wood as the table sat before the windows.

Elsa's attention was drawn to the man standing in front of the desk. There was something about his expression that was disarmingly welcoming, and she realized that she had been expecting to see someone of Tyr's build. Instead, the man before her, while broad-shouldered and holding himself like he had spent his fair share of time in some form of military, had a slender stature, one built for speed over brute strength.

"You must be the Sirma's mage," he said, stepping forward and dipping his chin. "My name is Markkus."

Years of training had Elsa reflexively folding her hands in front of her. "It's nice to meet you," she replied, the response as instinctual as breathing.

"I'm sorry that I was unable to greet you when you first arrived at Hasvik," he told her.

A frown pulled at the corners of her lips. "I don't actually recall arriving here," she said, the words tumbling out of Elsa's mouth before she could stop them. "Though I do vaguely remember being drugged into unconsciousness, so . . ." She bit down on her lip and mentally berated herself. She knew better than to allow her temper to slip, especially when she knew nothing about the man in front of her.

"I apologize for that," Marrkus said, his tone seeming genuine, sincere. "But it was an unfortunate precaution we had to take. I have been told that you are single-handedly responsible for the Sirma's sudden victories." He took a breath, gesturing to the table by the fire. "But that is a conversation for later. I'm sure you're hungry?"

Elsa's gaze moved over the spread, and her stomach rumbled its approval. She hadn't realized before this moment how absolutely famished she was. She was still in a strange place, with the leader of a people who had recently tried very hard to hurt, even kill her, and she fought with herself before stepping toward the table. She kept one eye on the man, and he did the same as they took a seat on either side. Up close, she could fully appreciate the impressive spread of fresh fruits and vegetables, a steaming meat pie, and a variety of baked goods. The same deeply ingrained training that had forced a polite response also stayed her hand, and she waited for the other man to begin serving himself before she let herself tuck in.

She watched Markkus's actions, how he served himself and what food he put on his plate, and took care to mirror him so that she didn't accidentally insult the man. Tyr's warning, coupled with what little she knew about the Vindarr, was warring with the calm, seemingly charming man she was now sharing a meal with.

"I must say," Markkus said conversationally as he scooped up some food onto his fork, "I am surprised to find the Sirma have any mages left, I was under the impression their mages had all lost their magic."

Elsa covered her surprise at his statement by biting into a warm honeyed roll. Several things settled in her mind at the same time. One, that the Sirma had – at least at one point – magic, as well as the Vindarr; a thought she would file away for later exploration. Second, Markkus's tone indicated that he knew she was not from the Sirma tribes. And third, the question itself meant that he didn't know where she was from, or whether there were more like her. He was prodding for information, and something inside her, whether instinct or years of experience negotiating, warned Elsa to be careful with what she gave over. Dangerous didn't always mean violent.

"I'm not from the Sirma tribes," she said simply.

His eyebrows arched. "You're not?"

She dropped her gaze to her plate and took another timid bite of the roll to stall for time, savoring the taste of something that hadn't been salted or dried. Elsa knew she could call him out on the rather innocent lie, or she could play along. There were advantages to both options. She swallowed and took a deep breath, but didn't make any attempt to mask the tremor in her voice as she spoke. "The Sirma took me from my home," she told Markkus. "They threatened me and forced me to fight for them."

He cocked his head. "I'm sorry to hear that." He sounded sincere, like he was truly upset at the lengths the Sirma had gone to, to win this war. Maybe he was. He hadn't actually done anything yet to give Elsa reason to think otherwise. "Where are you from?"

That nagging voice in the back of her mind returned to tell her to not reveal her hand. At least, not yet. Elsa rolled her lips against her teeth. "South of here," she said. "Far south. A small town of little importance on the coast." Nothing she told him was entirely untrue. Compared to the world at large, Arendelle _was_ a small port town of little importance.

They continued to eat in silence. Elsa was happy to have the chance to actually _eat_ , but couldn't help worrying about her sister, what might be happening outside these stone walls. She took some measure of comfort in the fact that Tyr was locked in a cell downstairs, and that Erik wouldn't hurt Anna, especially if he figured out that she and his brother had been captured by the Vindarr. She had no idea how much time had passed since they left camp, but hoped it had been long enough for her army to infiltrate and occupy the Sirma camp. Either way, Anna was safe, and miles away from Tyr.

"I don't believe you have given me you name," Markkus said suddenly, leaning forward over his plate.

"Oh." Elsa hesitated, taking a long drink of water. "My apologies. You can call me . . . Joan."

Markkus nodded. "It's nice to meet you Joan. I am truly sorry that the Sirma have forced you into a war that is not your own."

Elsa's appetite fled as quickly as it had come on, and she shoved food around on her plate without taking a bite. She sighed. "I just want to go home." She felt the prickle of hot tears welling, and tried to tamp down on the overwhelming longing she felt for her sister, her home, and her people.

"An understandable sentiment," Markkus said softly. "But, before we talk about how to get you back to your home, let me ask you this: what do you know about the Sirma and the Vindarr?"

Elsa shook her head. "Nothing, I'm afraid. I had not heard of either of your people until recently." Well, she had known of the Northmen, but that was the extent.

"If you would permit me, I think it's important you understand the war in which you were forced to fight."

She noted his choice of words. _Were;_ past tense. Hope bloomed in her chest and settled like a rock in her stomach. Hope that Markkus wasn't going to ask her – or force her – to fight for his side. Elsa didn't care about their war, but she couldn't deny the curiosity of knowing what she had been forced to fight in, and why. There may be some information she could use to her own advantage. She sat back in her chair, and nodded.

Markkus took a long swig from his cup.

* * *

"The Sirma and Vindarr use to be a single tribe," Erik said, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck.

The man looked tired and worn, and a part of Anna felt for him. She knew the stress of a missing sibling. But a larger part, the part that had witnessed everything her sister had been forced to go through the past two weeks, felt vindicated, seeing Erik go through even a _fraction_ of what she had been put through herself. She knew she shouldn't take pleasure or satisfaction in someone else's misery, but she almost had her hand cut off, and watched her sister come back beaten, watched her get dragged into a war.

Anna set her jaw. Let him see how he liked being on this side.

After the discovery of the fight that had taken place atop the gorge, Naismith had the Arendelle soldiers scour the surrounding area for any indication of what direction Elsa and Tyr may have been taken. After hours of searching, they had been left with little hope of catching up to the Vindarr. Who, according to Alarik's morbid observation of the state of the half-frozen bodies, had hours' worth of a head start.

Erik claimed to know where the Vindarr called home, and was not only willing to show them on a map but offered up soldiers to help with any rescue they wanted to mount. It was an offer that Naismith and Alarik were obviously uncomfortable with, but it was also apparently Anna's decision to make. She needed time to think before doing what was not only right, but smart. For now, a message had been sent back to Arendelle for the naval ships to set sail around the coast to the north. It would take them three days, a prospect that made Anna itchy and uncomfortable. She couldn't stand the thought of her sister at the mercy of strangers, possibly enemies, for much longer. But she knew that even if she accepted the help of the Sirma, they didn't have the men or naval ships available to attack an entire settlement or, if Erik was to be believed, an island stronghold.

So, they had gathered in the command tent once more, for Erik to share his information – who exactly the Vindarr were and why they were fighting, and anything else they may need to know – while they waited for the navy to arrive. Waited to be able to rescue Elsa. Waited for this all to finally be over.

"It was centuries ago, but we were a single people once," Erik continued. "No one knows how it happened, but at some point, we made a pact with the Landvættir."

"Nature spirits, right?" Alarik asked.

"Yeah," Erik said, sounding impressed. "That's right."

"What sort of pact are we talking about?" Naismith sat stiffly with his arms folded across his chest. "I assume this is all relevant to the problem at hand."

"It is," Erik assured to Admiral. "As for the pact, it was a simple one. We would protect the Landvættir, and in exchange they would allow some of our people to harness their magic. Nothing showy or grand, and certainly nowhere near the level Queen Elsa is capable of. But enough to make life easier, like lighting fires or creating rain during a long draught. Simple things."

"You said some people," Kristoff said. His shoulder bumped Anna's as he shifted beside her on the bench. "Not everyone was given magic?"

Erik shook his head. "The Landvættir were very selective about who was granted magic. Perspectives went through years of training before preforming a ritual in which they asked for the Landvættir grace. It was then up to the spirits to decide if someone was worthy or not. Only those that the spirits believed had the best interests of both the Sirma and Landvættir would be allowed magic. If they sensed ulterior motives or dishonesty, then the person would not be allowed to become a shaman."

"So, what went wrong?" Anna asked, frowning.

"There was a disagreement among the elders," Erik said.

* * *

Markkus paused to take another drink from his mug. "Some saw the potential in the Landvættir power, but others were content living as farmers."

Elsa folded her hands on the tabletop and leaned in. She was much more interested in the story Markkus was telling than she had expected. Parts of it caused her to wonder whether anyone in Arendelle was a descendant of these mages. If _she_ was. If they were in any way related to why she had magic.

"At first, nothing came of the infighting," Markkus continued. "Not much could be done without Landvættir consent. They could take away magic as easily as they gave it."

"Until?"

Markkus smirked and reached into the collar of his shirt, pulling out a crystal than hung from a leather cord. The crystal resembled the ones the Vindarr soldiers in the gorge had been wearing, except this one had a faint purplish glow.

With a start, Elsa realized that the low pitch she'd heard upon entering the room wasn't the wind howling outside the large windows, but was coming from that crystal. She felt the cold seep of ice forming beneath her hands, but didn't stop it as she finally saw these crystals for what they were. "They found a way to trap the spirits," she said breathlessly.

If Markkus noticed the frost creeping across the tabletop, he made no indication as he tucked the crystal back under his shirt. "More or less. They discovered a way to drain the Shaman's magic and trap it within the crystals, which allowed for anyone to use the magic, for the benefit of everyone, rather than limiting magic to a select few judged worthy by outdated rituals."

"But you're hurting them." The words tumbled out before Elsa could think about what she was saying.

"Hurting them?" Markkus narrowed his gaze, tilting his head to the side. "Why do you think that?"

There was a genuine curiosity in his voice that threw Elsa for a loop. He must have known that he was causing the trapped spirits pain; the sound they were making was barely perceptible right now, but when the Vindarr had been fighting using that magic, she had been able to hear it clearly. "You can't hear them?"

Something glimmered in Markkus's expression, so quickly that she could not probably identify the emotion. "Can _you_?"

Elsa's heart thudded in her chest. She didn't answer, leaning back in her chair and wrapped her arms around her middle, drawing herself in. Could he really not hear that noise? She couldn't imagine any reason for him to lie about it, but if he truly didn't hear anything, why could she?

"Interesting," he said, drawing out the word. His gaze dropped to the melting frost she had left on the table where her hands had just been. "But perhaps a discussion for another time." Markkus took another drink. "In the meantime, the crystal provided a container for the magic, but a different device was needed to draw the magic out."

He offered a pointed look, and Elsa followed his gaze down to the faintly glowing cuffs around her wrists.

* * *

"The magic the Landvættir gave was finite." Erik leaned forward, his finger tapping idly against the tabletop. "A body not meant for magic can only channel so much of it. The cuff had a twofold purpose. It stopped the shaman, or mage, as the Vindarr call them, from using magic. Its primary purpose was to drain magic from the wearer into a crystal, so that the magic could be used by anyone." Erik rubbed his forehead.

That caught Anna's attention. Elsa had told her that it felt as though the cuffs were draining her magic, but she, like Elsa, had assumed that was more a by-product of wearing them, rather than a primary. Now she had to wonder just how extensive the exhaustion was that her sister had kept hidden from her.

"So why didn't you – I mean, I'm glad you didn't." Alarik took a breath and glanced upward before adding, "I think. But I have to ask why you didn't use the magic drained from Queen Elsa to power these crystals, in order to have more people fight for you rather than one prisoner who would still be well within her rights to kill you?"

Erik swallowed, looking uncomfortable. "It's . . . complicated."

"Uncomplicate it," Admiral Naismith said.

"Our shaman don't fight," Erik said. "The magic they had was only ever to be used for survival. That was the pact we made with the Landvættir."

"Your people being wiped out doesn't fall into that survival category?" Kristoff asked, eyebrow raised.

Erik shifted uneasily, and all sorts of red flags went up in Anna's mind. She knew there was something he didn't want to say. "Erik," she said sharply, not in the mood to feel sympathy for the enemy. "What aren't you telling us?"

He sighed heavily. "The cuff doesn't work right on Queen Elsa."

"Why do I get the feeling that's not a good thing," Alarik muttered.

"It's a bit hard to explain, and I'm not sure I understand it all myself. Think of the magic like the energy you have to use each day. It's finite, and if you keep going all day with no breaks, you will run out of energy. If you don't rest, you would die from exhaustion." Erik cast a glance around the faces watching him. "The magic we received from the Landvættir was like that. It was limited, meaning that if you used to much, you would run out. Afterwards, if you continued to try to draw power without a chance to recharge, you would likely lose the magic all together. We don't know if the loss was something the Landvættir did on their own, or something else. Other than the ritual, no one has had any interaction with the Landvættir in centuries and a few months ago they disappeared entirely taking their magic with them."

A silence fell over the group as everyone digested what Erik was saying. Finally, Naismith asked, "what does that have to do with the Queen? Or the cuffs?"

Erik sighed again, this time patiently. "Sometimes, it could take a while to drain a person's magic. There was no set amount someone had and, obviously, some were more powerful than others. The cuffs blocked you from using your magic during the process, so that you couldn't stop it, or escape. Once all the magic was drained the stones, they would cease to glow, and the cuffs could be removed. If left on, they would reactivate when the wearer started building up magic once more. The idea was to keep the shaman drained of magic until they could no longer could channel it, or until the cuffs were manually turned off."

"But the stones were always glowing when Elsa was wearing the cuff," Anna said slowly. "Not much, but they never truly shut off. She said it felt like a constant drain." The worry she felt for her sister increased another few notches, as she realized Elsa was in the hands of people who would have no issue draining her magic and using it for their own ends.

"I believe it might have something to do with whatever spirit Queen Elsa got her magic from." Erik said.

Anna frowned at his words; she then shook her head. "Elsa didn't get her magic from spirit; she was born with it."

"That's not possible." Erik looked at her blankly, like he was having issues understanding what it was Anna was saying. "Maybe your parents . . ." he trailed off.

"Made some sort of pact for Elsa's magic?" Anna had to bite back a chuckle at the absurdity of the question, given everything their family went through, everything Elsa went through. "Elsa and our parents spent most of her life trying to conceal and suppress her powers. Elsa may have accepted them now, but that's a long stretch from embracing them. If she or our parents had a choice, I have no doubt they would have chosen for Elsa to have no magic."

Erik sat back in the chair, folding one arm across his chest and resting the fist of his other hand against his chin considering this new set of information. "If the Queen was born with her magic, that would explain a few different things." He said sounding like he was talking more to himself then the people in the room.

"Such as?" Anna prompted, eager to learn as much about her sister's magic as she could, even if it was from an outside source.

"The cuffs are powered by the wearer's own magic, the stronger the magic the stronger the cuffs effects. But the cuffs were made with _our_ magic user's capabilities in mind. With the knowledge that magic is a finite resource. The cuffs will continue to drain magic until there is no more magic to drain, if the Queen's magic is natural to her—"

" –then she won't run out," Anna finished.

Erik nodded. "It would also explain how she managed to crack the stone in one of the cuffs," he added.

Anna recoiled. "Wait, what?"

"The night after that third battle, I noticed a crack deep in the stone," Erik told her. He shifted his gaze, looking at the others in the room. "I don't know when it happened, but her magic seems to be more powerful than the cuffs can handle."

"That's why she was able to use her magic," Anna said slowly. "Not much. It was more . . . leaking out. But if Elsa doesn't know she's close to breaking the cuffs, she's not likely to try, considering the pain it caused every time she tried to use her magic."

"So, how does this help the Queen?" Alarik asked abruptly. "Or help us get her back?"

* * *

Elsa looked down at the cuffs around her wrists and tried to wrap her mind around everything Markkus was telling her, about the Vindarr and Sirma, about the magic they had, and about the cuffs. There was no doubt in her mind that if Tyr had the Vindarr's crystals, he wouldn't have hesitated to use her as his own personal magic source, no matter the Sirma's beliefs. Of all the things Markkus had shared with her, there was one thing among them that awoke the drowsy sense of hope within her: the cuffs where made by the Vindarr, by his people.

She hesitantly held onto that sliver of hope as she asked, "can you remove the cuffs?" She held her breath waiting for his answer. Up to this point, Markkus had expressed no desire to keep her captive here, had even eluded to the possibility of her going home, but he wouldn't have brought her here just to turn her loose. Then again, if the Vindarr had their own magic, why would he even need her?

Markkus leaned back in his chair, and the frown forming on his face filled Elsa with dread. "If it were simply up to me, I would remove the cuffs and allow you to return home. I would even provide you with an escort, to ensure you made it back safely."

Elsa's shoulders slumped. Her chest tightened, a stinging pain as the last of her hope shattered. She swallowed thickly against the lump forming in her throat but remained silent, worried she might break down completely if she tried to speak. She was a Queen, even if the man across from her didn't know it, and no matter what these people put her through, she would conduct herself as she had been taught.

"Unfortunately," Markkus continued, "I must answer to a council, and am expected to take their worries and concerns into consideration." He leaned forward, an expression of worry pulling at his features. "We are not going to keep you here, nor are we going to ask you to fight our war for us."

Elsa shook her head. "I don't understand. Then why. . ."

"The council is concerned that if we release you right now, you may return to the Sirma. Or worse, they could capture you, and use you as their weapon once more. We don't want that. Not just for our sake, but yours as well. So, the council feels it would be best if you stayed here, as our guest, just until we take care of the Sirma. With you no longer fighting their war, it shouldn't take more than a few weeks."

_Weeks._ Elsa pressed a hand to her forehead and took slow breaths. She couldn't stay here for weeks; she had a kingdom to run. She had to make sure Valle had sent food to Arendelle, so her people didn't starve. She wanted to see her sister. She wanted to go home.

"I know it's a lot to ask," Markkus said. "You've been a prisoner for all this time, and it's obvious that they have not been kind to you." He raised a hand, gesturing to the fading bruises on Elsa's face and neck. "I promise you we will not keep you in the dungeon. You will be kept as comfortable as possible, given a real room and anything you might need. You have come this far; I only ask you go a little further. Then I will personally see you back home."

He phrased it like a request, but Elsa understood that she didn't have any choice here. She hadn't had a choice in anything that happened for weeks now, and she felt lost and afloat, like a leaf on the wind. Some logical part of her mind told her that what Markkus was asking wasn't unreasonable; if she were in his shoes, she'd do the same thing. He didn't know that she had an entire army to protect her, to keep the Sirma from taking her or Anna prisoner again. He didn't know a detachment of men was most likely in the Sirma camp now, or at least on their way to it. If she told him, maybe it would be enough to convince him to let her go. But she didn't really _know_ anything about the man sitting across from her, other than, so far, he had seemed genuinely concerned for her well-being, and sympathetic to what she'd been through.

Even so, Elsa held her tongue, listening to the voice inside that warned her to not show her cards. At least, not just yet. "What about the cuffs?" she asked.

"After speaking with you, I don't think you would do us any harm," Markkus said. "But we do believe it would be best to leave the cuffs where they are for now. If you can't use your magic, no one can claim you are a threat, to anyone." He tilted his head. "I would hate for someone to harm you, thinking they were doing right by our people."

Elsa did not try to hide her disappoint. "Am I still a prisoner then?" she asked. "Or am I allowed to move about freely?"

Markkus frowned, looking conflicted once more. "Whether forced or not, your actions have resulted in the death of many Vindarr. Now, very few people know you are here, and I think it would be best if kept that way. If you need anything at all however, anything within my power I will get for you."

Elsa sighed. It wasn't what she wanted to hear, but for now, she would have to make do.


	24. Chapter 24

After the meal with Markkus, the same two guards who brought her to him escorted Elsa once more through the winding halls until they arrived at another room. The door was opened for her but neither followed her in. She crossed the threshold, and the door closed with a faint _click_ that caused Elsa's chest to tighten painfully.

"Hello."

The light but sudden voice made Elsa jump, a ring of frost spreading around her feet. She turned toward the speaker and found a young woman standing in the middle of the room. Elsa was distracted enough, and tired enough, that for a moment, she thought the girl standing in the middle of the room was her sister. Her heart soared, and then sank as she realized it wasn't Anna. In no way did she want her sister to be trapped in the fortress as well, but that didn't make her miss the girl any less.

Elsa folded her hands in front of her and studied the younger girl. She had red hair and freckles and looked to be Anna's age, if not a couple of years younger. Elsa didn't know who the girl was, or why she was in the room. "Hello," she returned politely, but cautiously.

The girl curtsied. "I'm Rayna, though most of my friends just call me Ray. Markkus asked me to make sure you have everything you need while you're here."

"Oh." Elsa offered her a warm smile. "It's nice to meet you."

"He also gave me a quick rundown of what's going on. I know you don't want to be here," Ray said with a shrug. "I can't blame you. But since you're stuck for now, you might as well be comfortable. If you need anything at any point, even in the middle of the night, just let me know. Or you can tell one of the guards outside the room, and they'll come fetch me."

"That's very kind of you." Even so, Elsa's gaze ticked toward the closed door at the mention of guards stationed on the other side.

A smile lit up the girl's face. She gestured toward a privacy screen that had been set up across the room. "I poured you a hot bath," she said. "Which is something I'm guessing you, uh . . ." Her gaze roamed over Elsa's aggressively dirty outfit.

"Appreciate more than you could know," Elsa finished for her. She could only imagine, after the events of the past few weeks, just how dirty she must look, or how bad she must smell. She wrinkled her nose at the thought. Several council members, and possibly members of the household staff, namely Gerda, would have a heart attack if they saw the Queen in her current state. The imagined look on the woman's face almost brought a chuckle to Elsa's lips. Almost.

"If you like, I can send your clothing to be washed and mended," Ray offered. "I will also get you something to wear until that's done, of course. Do you have any preference?" Ray folded her hands behind her back and rocked on the balls of her feet.

Elsa couldn't help but smile at the girl. "That would be wonderful, thank you, Ray. As for clothing, I don't have a preference. Anything you have on hand will be fine."

"Great. If you want, I'll wait for you to, uh . . ." The girl bobbed her head toward the privacy screen and the bath waiting behind it.

Elsa nodded and crossed the room to duck behind the screen. The whole scene felt so normal, so like home, that she had to remind herself not to get comfortable or let her guard slip. Ray seemed like a sweet girl who genuinely wanted to help, and Elsa wanted to believe she was just that. But she was in unknown territory, with unknown people, and trust was a commodity she couldn't afford. She could, however, afford a bath. The luxury of being clean once more was something she had never imagined she would be so excited for.

Elsa peeled off her dirty clothes and draped them over the top of the privacy screen. A moment later, they disappeared. She heard the door to the room open and close as she stepped into the bath. She sunk into the tub, the steaming water immediately going to work on her sore, bruised muscles. She felt each one relaxing slowly, like melting butter, and a sigh rolled passed her lips as she closed her eyes and laid her head back against the tub.

Suddenly, the water around her felt much cooler, and Elsa realized she had been so content to be still for a moment, that she had drifted off. She sat up and cupped water in her hands, splashing it across her face to infuse a bit of energy and wash away the dregs of sleep. She then got to work scrubbing away the dirt and, she realized with a sour twist in her stomach, the blood that stained her skin and was matted in her hair.

She scrubbed at her skin until it was red, making sure every lingering bit of evidence of the last few weeks was gone. Once satisfied, Elsa stepped out of the tub to dry off with a soft towel that hung from the privacy screen, then wrapped herself in the robe hanging next to it. The robe was a shade of light brown and made from a soft material Elsa couldn't readily identify. She wrapped it around herself, tying it securely, then twisted her wet hair, securing it in a loose bun so it was off her shoulders.

Warm and clean, Elsa walked around the screen and took her first good look at the room. To the right side of the tub, was a large fireplace. Opposite of the fireplace was a bed piled high with soft fur blankets and splitting the middle of the room was a bookshelf filled with books, along with a small round table and chair. The room was smaller than her own in Arendelle but seemed comfortable and cozy in its own right. There was a large window directly across from the room's only door.

Elsa walked to the window, hoping the view beyond with provide a clue as to where she was, or even a possible escape. That hope died as soon as she peered out. There was a sheer drop from her window, where the stone face of the fortress blended into the cliff and straight down into the roaring ocean, which stretched outward and disappeared behind a misty veil. She hadn't truly expected to be able to escape through the window, but her heart still sank to see it was entirely out of the question.

She released a long breath, wrapping her arms around herself as she turned back to the bed. Elsa suddenly felt exhausted, wanting nothing more than to sleep on something other than a cot or sitting against a wooden pole. There were clothes laid out on the bed, a simple long-sleeved black shift dress like Rayna had been wearing.

Elsa ran her fingertips over the soft cloth, then shifted the dress to the side. She pulled back the blankets and crawled into bed still wrapped in the robe, buried under the fur blankets. She immediately yawned, gaze drifting to the window, where the daylight was fading, the moon rising. She thought of Anna, wondering how her sister was doing, if she was safe. She laid her head back against the blissfully soft pillows and was asleep in the next breath.

* * *

Anna drew in a deep breath of cold air, letting it nip at her lungs as she stood outside the command tent, watching the last bit of sunlight melt away. She wrapped her arms around herself, her mind wondering to her sister, where she was, if she was okay. Her fingers curled tightly into her shirt as she resisted the ever present and overwhelming feeling of helplessness. She wouldn't let herself give into it, she cried enough tears, and this was just another setback, one more obstacle to overcome. They would get through this and come out on the other side stronger, she truly believed that, had to believe that. With Elsa missing their people would be looking to Anna to know what to do, to decide what to do. She couldn't let her sister down.

Erik's story had given her a lot to think about and left her with even more questions. She wondered if there was any relation between their people or a connection to Elsa's magic. She thought about their parents, if they had known about the Sirma and Vindarr, about their magic. Anna knew they had to have known _of_ the northern tribe, they'd been a minor nuisance to Arendelle's for generations. But had they known any more than that? Anna sighed, she supposed there wasn't much use in obsessing over questions she'd never get the answers too and magic wasn't the only thing that had Anna's thoughts churning.

Erik told them he knew where the Vindarr made home, and where they would have taken Tyr and Elsa, but that was where the good news had ended. While the Sirma lived in a series of villages that dotted the northern coast, the Vindarr lived on a tight cluster of frozen islands a few days to the northwest of them. Anna didn't need experience in sailing to know a 'tight cluster of islands' would be difficult to navigate in any sizable vessel.

Then like the world's worst parfait, Erik added another layer of bad news to an already substantial pile. Most of the Vindarr lived in a large fortress, one that was raised from the ground with stolen earth magic, and if that wasn't enough, he went on to admit that he didn't _actually_ know which of the islands the fortress was on because a dense fog surrounded the frozen archipelago, one he believed to be created with water magic, making it impossible to navigate.

One more layer, one more problem.

When Erik told them, the only person he knew to have sailed to the fortress and back was none other than Tyr, that had been the tipping point. Anna had never seen Alarik lose his temper. He accused Erik of stalling and his brother of several other, less kind things. She was pretty sure she heard some name calling between the two before Admiral Naismith broke it up, telling Alarik to take a walk and cool his head. Shortly after it was decided that they'd break for the night, it was late, and they were all tired and stressed. They couldn't make any plans with emotions running high.

Anna was reluctant to stop for the night, having the need to do _something_ , but Naismith was correct, they needed rest and even if they knew the exact location of the fortress, there was nothing they could do. The Sirma had no large boats, only fishing vessels. Unless they wanted to sail up to the Vindarr's doorstep and try asking them nicely to return her sister, they were left at a standstill.

At first light a message would be sent to Arendelle, orders for the ships standing by to set sail north with a location for them to meet up at. The admiral told her it would take a few days for the ships to make the journey north, giving them time to locate the island and come up with a plan to rescue Elsa.

A few days. That meant more time Elsa was in the hands of people who could try to use her for their own ends. Anna knew her sister was strong, and without something to force her hand, Elsa would refuse to allow the Vindarr to use her magic as a weapon. And that's what scared Anna the most, because while they were sitting around waiting, planning, _anything_ could happen, and she'd be powerless to stop it.

Something bumped her leg, Anna knelt, scratching the large head of the ever-present snow leopard. "We'll get her back."

Since arriving back at the camp, the large cat had stayed by her side, a silent steady comfort that if nothing else, her sister was still alive. She had a feeling that Rune was seeking comfort just as much as Anna and found herself once more, curious about the connection Elsa shared with her creations.

How extensive it went, if each one shared a different sort of connection, if distance made that connection weaker. It was obvious Rune was able to feel out Elsa's physical location, Olaf was able to sense strong emotions from her. She wasn't sure about Marshmallow but imagined there was something there.

Anna sighed softly, her breath clouding in the night air. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the tent flap open, and Kristoff walk out, he wrapped his arms around himself, warding off the cold nip in the air.

"Hey, how you holding up?"

Anna gave Rune one last scratch, then stood up. She shrugged, "Okay I guess."

Kristoff reached out taking both Anna's hands in his own and rubbing some warmth back into them. "We'll get her back, you know," he said, unknowingly echoing her own words.

"I know, I just—" Her eyes drooped to the ground. "I'm worried what state she'll be in when we do. With everything the Sirma put her through and now this . . ." Anna shook her head, she had barely seen her sister since Tyr took them captive, what little she did, she knew was a mask, a brave face to hide the storm brewing underneath. She had no idea how her sister was handling everything.

"Elsa is one of the strongest people I know," he gave her hands a quick squeeze, ducking his head to find her eyes. "No matter what happens, we'll get through it." He reached up, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and drawing her close.

* * *

Markkus stood in front of the large picture window with his arms crossed, watching the far-off white froth of rolling ocean waves. The more violently the waves crashed, the calmer and more centered he felt, like an eternal dance between light and dark, one enabling the other. The crackling fire behind him kept the room at a comfortable temperature, though he could feel the night's chill through the glass of the window, the promise of an icy storm.

It was as if they knew what now resided in his fortress.

When the Sirma started winning their battles it had been disconcerting but not unexpected. He knew Tyr to be both a strategic fighter and a ruthless commander and where there was a stubborn ass, there was a way. For generations it had been an endless game of tug and war, two diametrically opposed foes circling each other, nipping at one another's heels. Markkus was content to let it remain that way, using the battles and skirmishes to hone his warrior's skills, something to cut their teeth on.

At least he was, until Tyr decided to up the ante some months ago.

Even then Markkus wouldn't commit to wasting his mages in a fight if he didn't need to, not in a battle where the only reward was bragging rights. When it was reported back to him that the last few battles had not only been sweeping victories for the Sirma, but that they had an ice mage fighting with them, that was not only unexpected but concerning.

The Sirma didn't use their mages, or shaman as they preferred to call them, to fight. The Landvættir wouldn't allow it. It was the very thing that caused a divide between the two people, and why they continued to war with each other. Which then begged the question, where did Tyr get this mage?

So, Markkus set up a trap, knowing Tyr wouldn't be able to refuse the bait, and sent two of his mages to retrieve both Tyr and this ice mage.

Despite his words at dinner, Markkus had been there to greet the sloop as it docked, wanting to ensure the mage remained unconscious until he was ready for her. He soon found his caution wasn't needed as the mage's magic was already bound by the very cuffs stolen from them years ago.

 _Interesting,_ that meant Tyr didn't trust her. He stood by, watching as his men carried her off the small ship and noted the half-melted ice that clung to the wood where she had been laying. The start of a plan began to form in his mind, but he would need information first.

Tyr had been reluctant to talk, though Markkus found it wasn't out of any compulsion to protect the woman. Tyr was just being what Tyr had always been. A prideful, arrogant ass. It was those same flaws that had offered the Landvættir up on a silver platter all those months ago. His pride would be the death of him, but not today.

After some encouragement, Tyr started talking and it was clear Markkus's first assumption had been correct. The Sirma leader didn't trust nor care much for the woman beyond what she could do for him. The conversation had left him with several things to consider, one of the more pressing was where she came from.

Arendelle. A country to their south. He'd heard of them in passing; a kingdom that had given up the old ways some generations ago. He never cared to learn more beyond that, the kingdom offered little in the way of strategic value and it wasn't worth trying to take on their military just for some land gain. But that wasn't the only tidbit of information his rival had offered up and with an irritatingly smug expression, Tyr informed him that his new prisoner wasn't just a citizen of the southern country, she was their Queen.

Markkus had to admit, that information set him back on his heels, and for a moment he was unsure how to proceed. If she was a queen that meant she had a military behind her, one that would most likely come for her and that was a complication he hadn't been expecting. He wasn't ready to throw in the towel just yet, but he knew he'd have to play his cards carefully.

The moment he met her there was no doubt in his mind that Tyr was telling the truth. She held herself with the quiet, commanding grace of someone who was used to controlling the room. He found himself mildly disappointed that she hid her identity from him, and a little surprised as well. He had expected her to loudly state that she was a queen, demand he release her or face her army.

She did none of these things. Instead she watched and listened, let him set up the pieces on the board and waited to see what his first move would be. Markkus couldn't help but think that under different circumstances she would be a fascinating opponent.

She did give up some bits of information though, the most surprising ones of the night in fact. The first being the unintentionally slip that she could hear the spirits, the Landvættir trapped inside the crystals. The second and perhaps more shocking, was that she was born with her magic and it came as natural to her as breathing. That information changed _everything_. Suddenly she wasn't just an ice mage with unnaturally strong abilities, she was something else entirely.

A light knock drew his attention, and he turned toward the door. "Enter," he called.

The door opened with a creak, and a small, red head poked into the room.

The girl hesitated on the threshold, and Markkus beckoned her inside. "Is she settled?" he asked walking to his desk and sitting down.

Rayna nodded. "I believe she's sleeping."

"Good." That meant she was feeling comfortable enough. It was important that she not feel threatened, or cornered, even if she did not truly feel _safe._ "What else?"

"Nothing in her clothing but dirt. And blood," the girl added, her voice thick.

He wasn't surprised, he hadn't expected to find anything, the queen had been held captive by the Sirma for at least a couple of weeks now, anything useful she may have had would have already been taken.

"I think she trusts me. I think...I think I might remind her of someone."

"You do, but that's not for you to worry about." Markkus picked up a glass taking a long pull from it, before continuing. "Your only worry is to make sure she's comfortable."

"Yes sir."

He waved a hand, dismissing the young girl. As the door fell shut Markkus leaned back in his chair. He'd give the Queen a day to rest and recover from her ordeal, then talk to her. He had to admit he was quite interested in the woman he had in his fortress and the magic she wielded, but he knew that if he was going to get anywhere with her, he'd have to play this game on her terms.


	25. The Queen's Gambit

Markkus had so far been true to his word. Elsa was being treated well; a sweet girl with red hair and freckles who reminded her so much of Anna it stole her breath, brought food to her room regularly. She checked in on Elsa several times a day, making sure she had everything she needed. Or at least, anything she needed that they'd allow her to have.

Elsa knew she should sleep more but felt like she'd done enough of that already, having slept through her first night here and late into the morning. A cheerful Rayna woke her with a smile, asking what she wanted for breakfast. Elsa had hesitantly, and with little hope, asked the young girl if they had any coffee.

"Oh, yeah, we have _that_ stuff," Ray said, scrunching up her nose. "The old people around here drink it all the time. Uh, not that _you're_ old. Just the people here who drink it—you shouldn't drink too much of it, though." She leaned forward like she was sharing a big secret. "I think they're addicted to the stuff; they turn really cranky if they don't get it."

Elsa couldn't help but giggle at Ray's very serious concerns. "Thank you, Ray," she said, "but I think I'll take my chances."

Ray shrugged. "Okay," she said, sighing heavily. "But don't say I didn't warn you."

With that, the girl had bounded off, leaving Elsa alone once more in the suddenly oppressively quiet room. She got out of bed, trading the robe she had fallen asleep in for the simple black dress Ray had left for her the day prior. She had just finished pulling her hair into a bun when Ray returned with the requested beverage.

Elsa took the cup and at first, just held it in her hands, breathing in the strong, earthy aroma, taking a moment to relish the first cup of coffee she'd had in far too long. She took a sip, enjoying the bitter smooth taste, which was nuttier than what she'd grown used to in Arendelle. It wasn't surprising, as she doubted Vindarr and Arendelle shared any trading partners. A contented sigh rolled off her tongue as she let herself forget, just for the moment, the mountain of problems she still faced.

"See?" Ray spoke up, interrupting Elsa's drifting thoughts. The girl folded her arms and shook her head, _tsking._ "Addicted. They already got you."

There was a sharp pain in Elsa's chest as she realized once more how much this girl reminded her of Anna, even sharing the same view on her favorite drink. She smiled, attempting to cover the sting. She perched on the edge of the bed, gratefully drinking the coffee. She had a lot to think about before deciding her next move, if she even had one to make, but for now it seemed she was here for the short term. Elsa saw no harm in getting to know the girl that was likely going to be one of the few people she was going to interact with for the foreseeable future.

She and Ray spent the next hour talking. Elsa learned that the girl was fifteen, three years younger than Anna. She had worked in the fortress since she was thirteen, as a seamstress. She had even made the simple dress Elsa was now wearing. She learned that Ray's mother had passed from illness some years ago, and her father had very recently died during a battle with the Sirma. Elsa's chest seized at that, and frost crawled around the sides of the empty mug in her hands. Before she could form a response, Ray shrugged it off.

"I didn't really know him that well," she said. "He spent most of his time away. And..." She chewed on her lower lip. "Markkus already told me the Sirma forced you to fight for them. So, I don't blame you. I know you didn't have a choice."

Her forgiveness made Elsa feel even worse. This girl was an orphan at fifteen, and it was at least partially her doing. With a start, she realized she had made Anna an orphan at fifteen as well, when Elsa declared their parents lost at sea. She knew in both situations circumstances had been far beyond her control, but that didn't keep her stomach from twisting painfully. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice just above a whisper.

Ray shrugged again. "It's okay. Like I said, I barely knew him, which is normal around here. Well, not for everyone. But for warriors. They spend a lot of time training and fighting, or other stuff, so they aren't home very long. Their families are well taken care of in the fort, though. We get room and board and the chance to apprentice under other castle staff."

As the girl spoke, Elsa's frown deepened. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to have a parent so absent from your life. Even in her isolation, she'd still had her parents, a constant support that she would never have made it through without. Even if they hadn't always made the best decisions, they still tried, and they were always there. That meant more than anything.

"Though," Ray continued, "the guy who manages the rooms and families here wanted to give me the boot when he found out. Markkus told him he couldn't, that my dad had died in service and I was to keep my room even though it'll be a few more years before I can 'earn my keep'." She said the last part like she was quoting someone.

"That was good of him," Elsa said carefully.

"Mmm. All he wanted in exchange is for me to look after you while you're here. I even get a break from my normal duties. So, I know you don't want to be here, but think of it this way: your presence is giving this poor, overworked girl a much-needed break." Ray crossed her arms and nodded sharply.

Elsa smiled. "I'll keep that in mind."

They talked a bit longer, with Ray telling her about herself and the Vindarr, and a little about Markkus, all with an endearing sort of innocence that Elsa wondered if she herself had ever possessed. As far as she could tell, Ray thought the man was nice but intimidating, a perhaps obvious quality, given that he was the leader of all the Vindarr. The girl thought that was impressive, but that it sounded like a really demanding job.

Elsa was careful about what she shared in return. She described what Arendelle was like, the food and customs, but was careful not to talk specifically about herself or her sister. At least, not until she could be sure the information wouldn't be used against her.

At some point, Ray left to fetch lunch, and then she disappeared for the afternoon. She reappeared around dinnertime with an offering of food, making sure there was nothing else Elsa needed before retiring for the night.

She spent the night restless, tossing and turning in bed, before giving up on sleep entirely just before dawn. Being locked in a room like this felt familiar, in a claustrophobic way that had her shoulders and back aching from folding in on herself. In a way, Elsa thought she had left in the past. She sat up and hugged her arms around her middle, wincing from the feel of the cuffs around her wrists.

Her body still ached from the fight with the Vindarr mages, in a disconnected sort of way, and her head felt light and detached. But she didn't feel tired. There was a buzzing in her head, an odd kind of energy she didn't recognize feeling before. It wasn't unpleasant, just different. Elsa figured she'd been through more than enough the past few weeks to warrant a strange feeling, a sleepless night. She rose from bed and crossed the room to the bookshelf to study the books there, her gaze roaming the titles for anything that caught her attention. Curiously, the books seemed to be in a variety of languages. Some Elsa recognized, some she could read, and some she had never seen before. It made her wonder who had been in this room before her, but other than the books there was no evidence that anyone might have occupied the space before she arrived. It was possible that the books were here just for her. Neither Markkus nor Ray would have known what languages she could read, so it would make sense for them to leave an assortment.

The thought caused her chest to tighten once more, and she glanced over her shoulder at the locked door. Claustrophobia and anxiety washed over her like a wave. She was trapped. A prisoner in another country. Elsa wrapped her arms around herself and walked away from the bookcase, moving to the wide window. The night sky was overcast, fog dimming the moonlight and blotting out the horizon, but she could still make out the waves crashing below her window. She laid her forehead against the cool glass, trying to steady her breathing and calm the pounding within her chest.

She had to do something; she couldn't just stand here, trapped and waiting for the other shoe to drop. Except Elsa didn't know that there was anything she _could_ do. She had to find some way to get a message to Anna. She thought about asking Markkus, as he'd so far given her no reason to think he wasn't on the level. But she was afraid that he would use Anna the same way the Sirma had, and she didn't want her sister in that sort of danger again.

She wanted to have patience, knowing that was her best play, but Elsa wanted to see her sister so badly she ached. She wanted to make sure Anna was okay, that the army had gotten her out of the Sirma camp. She wanted to drink hot chocolate in front of the fire, with Anna curled up at her side. She didn't want to be confined in a small claustrophobic room with her magic bound behind cuffs that were draining her energy away like water through the floorboards of a slowly sinking ship.

Elsa turned away from the window and slid down the wall to the floor. She wrapped her arms around her legs, curling in on herself until her forehead rested against her knees.

She wanted to go home.

* * *

Elsa sat against the wall with her knees pulled up to her chest. As the night melted away and hints of light started to seep into the room through the window, she realized the sense of claustrophobia and anxiety weren't going away or calming. She drew a shaky breath and pushed herself up from the floor, made her way across the room to the bookshelf. There had been days growing up that the crushing weight of isolation became too much, and she couldn't calm herself down, no matter what she tried. On those days, Elsa did the next best thing, and distracted herself with a book, a story of far-off places and wide, open spaces. Losing herself in story didn't always work, but it was a far better option than sitting on the floor for hours, just trying to breathe.

She ran her fingertips over the row of stiff leather spines until one drew her attention, a book with a black cover and silver lettering, and she pulled the volume from the shelf. The language on the front was of a country far to the southeast of Arendelle, and Elsa could read it well enough, though she wasn't nearly as fluent in it as she was in others. Perhaps working through the words she didn't know would be enough to distract her racing mind and calm the persistent thudding in her chest.

A few hours later, Elsa was curled up on the bed, deeply into the book. A fantastical tale about the last dragon and the man who expected to slay him. The story had succeeded in drawing her focus away from the weight pressing down on her. Occasionally, she stumbled over an unfamiliar word and had to work out a translation based on the context of the sentence. The tightness in her chest was still present, but had lessened significantly, allowing her to breathe easier.

A knock at her door startled her. Before she could say anything in response, Ray poked her head in. Seeing Elsa was awake and sitting up, the young girl entered the room fully, a dark blue bundle tucked under one arm, and a steaming mug of coffee in her other hand.

"Morning," she said cheerfully, passing the mug off to Elsa.

"Good morning." Elsa set the book aside on the bed and took the cup. "Thank you," she said gratefully.

Ray wrinkled her nose as Elsa took a deep drink from the mug, then shook her head. "I have some good news," she said, sitting on the bed facing Elsa. "Not the good news you probably want to hear," she added quickly, "but you know, okay news. I guess."

Elsa would not admit to the girl that for just a second, Ray's words had allowed her to get her hopes up, just enough to feel the painful sting as they came crashing back down. She covered it with a smile and another sip of coffee. "What is it?"

Ray held out the blue bundle. "It was not easy, but I managed to get all the... stains out of your clothes. And mend the tear in the tunic."

"That's rather impressive." Elsa's smile grew, becoming more genuine. "Thank you, Ray."

"I'm here to help." Her face took on a playful seriousness. "Literally, that's my entire job. So, whatever you need."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Ray dipped her chin sharply. "Good." She hopped off the bed and spun around to face Elsa. "Oh, I almost forgot. Markkus was hoping to talk to you today, if you are up for that. He said you're under no obligation to do so, but if you are willing, just let the guards at the door know once you are ready, and they will escort you to his office."

The tightness in Elsa's chest returned in full force, but she managed a tight nod in response.

Ray turned back to the door and exited the room, leaving Elsa alone once more. She looked down at her half-full mug. This was the other shoe, the one she had been waiting to drop. She wasn't wholly sure what Markkus wanted to talk about, but had a good idea that at least one topic that would be on the table would involve her magic.

She had noted the first night they talked that the man seemed keenly interested in her magic, but had been careful not to ask her about it at all. Markkus had only asked about her ability to hear the spirits, a revelation that had thrown them both for a loop, but for different reasons. Elsa hadn't meant to say anything; the words had tumbled out before she had a chance to stop them. She didn't know no one else could hear them, and the idea that she was the only one that could, left her uneasy. Perhaps it was because her magic had come naturally that she could hear them when no one else could. It was possible that the Sirma could hear the spirits, since they had created a pact with the Landvættir. Unfortunately, there was no remaining shaman for her to ask, so all she could do is speculate.

Elsa finished the rest of her coffee and placed the empty mug aside on the table. She changed into the washed and mended dark blue tunic and grey leggings Ray had brought. She was grateful for the dress Ray had lent to her but immediately felt better being in her own clothes once more. She already felt like herself, and more importantly, better prepared for whatever it was Markkus wanted from her.

* * *

When the guards walked past the connecting corridor that she remembered led to Markkus's office, Elsa stopped. One of them turned back to her, his expression bordering on exasperation. "This way," he said curtly.

She wrung her hands together, anxiety churning in her chest and climbing her throat, and nodded. They continued down the dim hallway until they reached to another door. Elsa took a deep breath, steadying her nerves as she stepped through the doorway, only to find it opening into an unexpected, spacious courtyard. The yard was framed on three sides, with castle walls behind her and to her left, and across the way the rough cliff-side formed a third wall. The edges of stone melted into each other so seamlessly, it was as though the fortress had grown out of the mountainside. The open sky and vast ocean clouded in a grey mist drew her attention almost immediately. A short stone wall that came up to her waist, stretched along the edge.

"Being confined to a single space for so long," Markkus said from the other end of the courtyard, "I thought you might appreciate being outside while we talk."

She did, more than she was willing to admit out loud, Elsa hesitated before walking up to the stone wall. She placed her hands on the flat, cool stone and leaned forward, deeply breathing in the scent of salty ocean air. She allowed herself a moment to let the cold open-air wrap around her, loosening the tightness in her chest a fraction.

Reluctantly, she tore her gaze away from the sea and turned back to Markkus. The man was standing mere feet from her, and Elsa realized with an embarrassed blush that he was watching her. Studying her. She chided herself for the slip, knowing she should exercise more caution, but she doubted this one slip held any real significance. In fact, perhaps this one unguarded moment would help to encourage Markkus to let his own guard down.

He smiled warmly. "I trust the accommodations are to your liking?" He tilted his head, considering, before adding, "as much as possible, in what I'm sure you see as a gilded cage."

Elsa folded her hands in front of her, at least mildly appreciating that Markkus wasn't pretending that her confinement here was anything other than that, confinement, even if he was the one keeping her here. She wanted to snap at him, to show defiance and refuse to play this game, but standing in the open courtyard, facing the man responsible for her current situation, Elsa found herself less bothered by the imprisonment than she had been earlier. She still was desperate to check on her sister, to make sure Anna was okay, but realized that she didn't feel threatened here, only restricted, something she was painfully familiar with. Perhaps it was because of everything Tyr had put her through, but a room with an actual bed and warm food felt heaven sent.

"It's far better than the pole the Sirma kept me chained to while I was with them." Elsa kept her voice soft as she spoke. "And Rayna has been very kind to me."

A shadow of a look crossed Markkus's face, almost like the idea of her being chained like a dog upset or offended him. Whatever the look was, it disappeared the next moment, leaving Elsa to wonder if she had imagined it. "I'm glad to hear that," he said. "Again, I am sorry to put you through this. I know it's not fair to ask."

"It's fine." The words tumbled out of her mouth without thought. Elsa frowned; it wasn't fine, not even close. She attributed the response to a lifetime of training to always display proper decorum no matter the circumstance, though she highly doubted the tutors that had drilled it into her, had imagined she would ever find herself in this situation.

He nodded sharply. "I'm sure you know that I didn't ask you out here just to see how you're doing."

Elsa resisted the urge to wrap her arms around herself. She had a good idea what he wanted, but remained quiet, allowing him to lead the conversation.

"I've studied magic my entire life," Markkus said. "The crystals, the cuffs, the way our mages use and interact with it. Even the Sirma, when possible. In all that time, I have encountered no one born with magic. Not even our oldest texts suggested the possibility of it." He shook his head. "Something like that is completely unheard of here."

Elsa tightened her grip around her other hand, turning her gaze toward the ocean. She let out a small huff of air. "Well, people with any kind of magic at all was unheard of back home."

Markkus's eyebrows arched. "Really? No one has any sort of magic?"

"No." Elsa said, feeling a pang of aloneness and isolation settle in her chest. "You can imagine my parent's shock the first time I sneezed snowflakes all over them."

He nodded, folding his hands behind his back. "I get the feeling that you're conflicted with your magic. Did your parents..." Markkus let the question hang in the air between them.

Elsa shook her head, knowing what he was asking. "No, they..." This time she did wrap her arms around herself, wondering what had really happened back then, when her parents first realized she could create snow. She had heard stories from them; they spent her childhood telling her it was a gift. Even in her isolation, they tried to convince her of that. There had been a time when she believed all of it and loved her magic, when she thought it was a gift, until the day when it suddenly wasn't.

_Born with the powers, or cursed?_ The troll had asked her father that night so long ago.

_Both,_ Elsa thought bitterly, her experience only reinforcing the belief. She sighed heavily. "They feared what might happen if the wrong people learned of my magic."

"The wrong people? Like Tyr and the Sirma?"

Elsa shrugged. "They were more afraid of what I could do, that I might hurt someone... again."

"Again?"

Elsa bit her lip. She knew that she shouldn't be sharing this much information about herself, about her magic. She didn't _know_ Markkus, and didn't understand what his end game was, but the voice that had been warning her to be careful was quickly drowned out by a gentle buzzing in the back of her mind, and the words spilled past her lips before she realized she was saying them.

She kept parts of the story vague enough, so he didn't know about Anna, the rock trolls, or glean any hint she was more than a commoner. But standing there with the rolling sea in below them, Elsa found herself telling him everything else. About how she used to play with her best friend, how they snuck downstairs one night, how she had struck the girl in the head by accident, and the thirteen years of isolation that followed.

The entire time, Elsa kept her gaze fixed on the waves crashing below them. Many people in her kingdom had heard the story, at least the highlights of it, but it was the first time Elsa had ever told anyone in such detail.

They stood next to each other with a weighted, but not entirely uncomfortable, silence between them. Elsa didn't speak, allowing Markkus to process the information and take what he would from it.

"It sounds like your magic has caused you a lot of heartache and pain," he finally said, breaking the silence. "I can understand why you would be so at odds with it. It's a shame that those around you encouraged you to hide and suppress your powers as a child rather than allowing you to explore and accept them as a part of who you are."

"My parents did the best they could," Elsa returned. There was no heat in the words, but she felt a need to defend the people who raised her.

"They did," Markkus agreed. "But that doesn't make it right."

This was a disagreement she and Anna had many times in the past, but he was right, just as Anna had always been. Their parents panicked, as Elsa herself had after the incident, but for all the good they tried to do, the way they separated her from her sister, the isolation they kept her under had only ever fueled Elsa's fear of not only her magic but of herself, which led to years of being unable to control the growing power within her. Even now, her control was tenuous at best. She understood how to dismiss what she created, but just like her coronation, all it would take was the right mix events for her to lose complete control.

Markkus turned to her. "You shouldn't fear your magic. If I understand correctly, it's a part of who you are, and would be like fearing the air in your lungs. It accomplishes nothing and will only hurt you."

Elsa snorted derisively. "My magic is dangerous. I've hurt people with it, and it—" She broke off, her arms tightening around herself. "Every day, I can feel it grow, getting stronger." She had never spoken these fears out loud before. Not to anyone, including Anna. She didn't want her sister to worry, or give her council even more reason to fear her magic. But as the words flowed out, she felt lighter for it, finally sharing her greatest fears with someone who just might understand.

"Your magic isn't dangerous."

Elsa looked to Markkus. She opened her mouth but shut it, cocking her head as she waited for the man to elaborate.

"Your lack of knowledge and control is what's dangerous. In the same way that a sword in the hands of an untrained soldier is dangerous. I can't imagine it was easy, growing up alone in a world where no one understood what you were going through. What you're still going through." He rested a hand on the stone wall and tilted his head to the side, his lips pressing into a thin line. "But what if you didn't have to?"

Elsa tensed. "I don't understand."

"For better or worse, fate has seen you to my doorstep. And while I know you want to go home you are stuck here, however temporarily. I have taught many of our warriors how to harness and control their magic, and I could do the same for you. Help you learn to embrace your magic, so it becomes an extension of yourself, as natural as breathing, rather than something you fear and struggle against."

Elsa studied the expression of the man standing in front of her, trying to process what exactly he was offering. Some muted part of her mind said that she should say no, unequivocally turn down his offer, and demand he allow her to return to her people. But that odd, warm buzzing, and the enormity of what he was offering her, quickly smothered that too-quiet voice. Markkus had grown up around magic. He understood not only how to use it, but how to control it. And he was offering to teach her how to do the same.

She felt torn, knowing that, as Queen, she had a responsibility to return to her people. But she also owed it to them to be fully in control of her powers, no matter her emotional state. There was an obvious allure to slipping out from under the mantra of 'conceal, don't feel,' to experience and express the full scope of her feelings and emotions without the added stress of inadvertently causing a snowstorm, or creating an explosion of ice shards that might hurt someone. It was something that Elsa had been desperately striving for since the night she first struck Anna.

She wasn't blind to what was going on, or to what Markkus was doing. He wanted something from her. You didn't drug and kidnap an enemy combatant simply because you wanted them off the battlefield. You didn't offer to help them and take them home out of the goodness of your heart. She might be younger than most leaders, but she was far from naïve.

Elsa wanted to go home, to see her sister and make sure Anna was okay. But even if she got rid of the cuffs blocking her magic, and even if she made it past the guards at her door, past the combat-trained mages, and through the maze of this giant fortress... what then? She didn't know where she was, or how far they had traveled from the gorge to get here. It might have been hours, days, or even weeks. She didn't know how far from the Sirma camp they were, what direction it was in, or if they were even on the same continent. She figured they had to be within a few days' travel, considering the war being waged between the Vindarr and Sirma, but that was merely an assumption. The Vikings used to travel for weeks to wage war on their enemies, and there was no reason to think the Vindarr wouldn't do the same.

She didn't recall being drugged more than once, but also didn't recall having a conversation with Anna and Alarik in the Sirma command tent, nor apparently calling Tyr an honorless thug. Since this entire ordeal had started, her memory was spotty at best, the days blurring together.

For now, Elsa was here at Markkus's mercy and, so far, he had treated her well. If he wanted to offer her the very thing that she had spent her entire life striving her, it would be foolish to turn him down just for the sake of defiance.

"Okay," she said, with an odd thrill of excitement running through her.

Markkus nodded, seeming satisfied. "I should warn you; it won't be easy. We expect a lot out of our mages, and the training can be very challenging, but the result is complete control. It's doubtful you will be here long enough to reach that level, but I can at least set you on the path to one day reach it yourself."

Elsa nodded. She was responsible for an entire nation; every failure and success it experienced rested squarely on her shoulders. Even without her magic, 'not easy' and 'challenging' were concepts she was intimately familiar with.

"Okay." His face twisted thoughtfully. "The first order of business then, is for me to better understand how you magic differs from the Vindarr's. Would you be willing to give a demonstration?"

Elsa frowned, dropping her gaze to her arms. She held them out, displaying the softly glowing cuffs. "I would if I could."

Markkus dug something out of his pocket. Wrapping his hand around her wrist, he pressed the pendant Tyr had previously used against the indentation in the cuff. He turned it, then repeated the action with the other cuff. The stones dimmed, going dark, and just like that, Elsa had her magic back.

She could feel it rushing through her, a comforting cold racing through her veins. She flexed her hands, rubbed her fingertips together, and looked up at Markkus. "What do you want me to do?"

"Anything you want," he said. "I'm curious to see how strong your magic is."

Elsa pressed her lips into the thin line as she considered. Her mind went to the book she'd been reading earlier that day, and a thought struck her. Perhaps she could accomplish two objectives in a single move. She turned toward the stone wall and rubbed her fingertips together once more, then twisted her hands in the empty space. Snow built up on the flat surface of the wall, swirling together, rising and taking form. The snowflakes soon settled, revealing a tiny white dragon that was small enough to fit within her palm.

Markkus leaned forward to closely examine the small creature. He appeared only mildly impressed until the dragon yawned and stretched its wings, where icy rosemaling formed delicate patterns across the snowy surface. The creature flapped its wings experimentally as soft light glistened off its body, sending prisms of light across the stone surface.

The man's eyes widened. "An animated statue?" He looked to Elsa, now properly impressed with what she had created. "The level of detail is amazing."

Elsa shook her head. "Not quite, but close. This little guy will last only a short amount of time, but back home I created a snowman, Olaf. He is fully alive. He can think, reason, follow commands, learn, and experience emotions."

Markkus straightened. "You can create life with your magic?"

She shifted her weight. "I can, though I prefer not to. They are complex, and what I am feeling at the time of their creation has an enormous impact on their own personality."

"What you're feeling?"

Elsa nodded, feeling self-conscious. "My emotions and my magic are closely entwined. It's why I have issues controlling it. When I'm stressed, scared, or in any heightened emotional state, my magic will manifest in response."

"Interesting." Markkus rubbed his chin, once more leaning in to study the small dragon. "I have to say, I was not expecting this. Do you know where the limits of your power lie?"

Elsa chewed on her bottom lip, thinking about her ice palace on the North Mountain, the life she had created, the storm that buried Arendelle under twenty feet of snow. "I don't," she answered honestly. "I always tried suppressing it, so I suppose I've never had a chance to find out. Even what I did for the Sirma wasn't hard, just . . . different." She twisted her wrist and the tiny dragon dissolved into a flurry of snowflakes.

Markkus watched as an ocean breeze carried the snowflakes out of sight. "So - and, please correct me if I'm getting this wrong – your magic is tied to your emotions, and during heightened emotional states, you lose control?"

Elsa nodded once more.

"So, you don't need to control your emotions," Markkus said. "You need to learn how to control your magic while experiencing those emotions. I think I can help you with that."

It sounded simple enough, but thirteen years of experience had Elsa knowing that couldn't be further from the truth. Still, for the first time in forever, she felt the tiniest bit of hope spark in her chest. If she could come out of this with better control over her magic, then maybe, just maybe, everything she'd been through over the last few weeks might just have been worth it.


	26. Queen's Pawn to D4

The guards escorted Elsa back, leaving her once more alone in the room. As soon as the door closed, she started pacing, wringing her hands together. Her mind a cacophony of thoughts, jumping from one thing to another at a rapid pace. Her sister, Markkus, his offer, Arendelle, her magic, Anna. Elsa pressed her fingers to her forehead, as though the physical contact would slow the spiraling feelings.

She blew out a shaky breath and looked to the door. Ray would be in soon with lunch, but Elsa's stomach twisted at the thought of food, churning with the same turbulence as her thoughts. After the girl left, though, she would be clear for a few hours at least, allowing plenty of time to do what she needed to.

Elsa sank into a chair, tapping her fingertips against the hardwood surface of the table, before shoving back out of her seat. She walked over to her bed and snatched up the book she'd been reading earlier, then carried it back. She dropped back into the chair and flipped through the pages, looking for where she had left off in the story earlier that day.

Her mind kept drifting back to Markkus's offer, to Tyr's warning. She had little reason to believe Markkus's sincerity, but even less reason to believe Tyr. Considering they were enemies, it was likely Tyr was merely trying to plant just enough doubt in Elsa's mind to keep her from joining forces with the Vindarr. It made sense; at least, she thought it did.

Elsa pressed a shaky hand to her forehead as her eyes slipped shut. She took a deep breath, holding it for a moment before letting it back out slowly. She needed to concentrate on one problem at a time.

It wasn't long before Ray brought in lunch, as expected, leaving shortly after to take care of whatever filled her afternoons, which seemed to be the routine they were slowly settling into. Elsa eyed the offered lunch, but found her stomach was still too twisted in knots to even consider eating. She set the food aside and walked to the large window.

She studied the frame, running her fingers along the edge until she found what she was looking for, the small latch that locked the window shut. Elsa dug her finger under the latch and, with some effort, shifted it halfway to the unlocked position before it became stuck and refused to budge any farther. She pushed against the glass, hoping it would be enough, but the window remained firmly in place.

Elsa clenched her jaw, staring at the offending object. She looked around the room for something to use against the latch, but her heart sank when she saw only books, a ceramic mug, and an equally breakable plate. She frowned and folded her arms across her chest. A sharp metal clink stopped her mid-action. Eyebrows raised, she looked down at the cuffs on her wrists, then to the latch and back again, an idea taking form in her mind.

Elsa positioned herself alongside the window, then slammed the left cuff down against the latch. She felt it move. Holding her breath, she repeated the action, until the latch finally popped open with a satisfying crack.

She shook out her sore wrist, then pushed the window open. The frame groaned in protest and stopped moving after opening no more than an inch, but that was all she needed. Elsa drew in a deep breath of cool ocean air and waited.

A gust of chilly air brushed pass her, fluttering through her hair and bringing with it a flurry of snowflakes that swirled around the small table before settling into the form of a small white dragon. Elsa smiled as she walked over to the table. She ran a finger along the dragon's spine, and it curled up against her hand, offering a rumbling purr in response.

She hadn't lied to Markkus; the dragon wasn't like Olaf, Marshmallow, or even Rune. It wasn't living in the same sense they were. It was more like an automaton, a mechanical doll that could perform a series of programmable functions. She recalled reading about a Swiss mechanician who had created one sometime in the last century. The book she was reading also mentioned the little dolls, both giving life to an idea when Markkus asked for a demonstration of her magic.

The dragon was more advanced than the automatons she had read about. A flush crept across Elsa's cheeks as she realized she didn't know _how_ the creature was different, only that it was. She knew it wasn't alive, and that once it had fulfilled its purpose, the magic holding it together would fade.

Elsa squared her shoulders and sat in front of the dragon. When she held out a hand, it relinquished the two items clutched in its claws: a fountain pen and inkwell.

"I will not ask where this came from," Elsa said, in a light tone, "but you know you are going to have to return it?"

The dragon laid its head down across its legs, responding with a frosty huff.

"Mhm." Elsa twisted her lips and narrowed her gaze the dragon.

She reached for the book she had left on the table, flipping to the back and ripping out the last few pages. Elsa settled the papers in front of her and dipped the pen into the inkwell, only to hesitate with the tip hovering over the topmost page. She knew she was going to have to word this letter with the utmost care. Her chest tightened, knowing that what she was about to do was unfair to her sister, but that it had to be done. She could only hope that Anna would understand and would forgive her when all this was over.

Elsa placed the tip of the pen against the paper and dragged it across the parchment, creating looping, graceful letters. It wasn't until she had finished the message and was rolling the parchment that she winced, realizing one page contained the ending to the story she'd been reading. She sighed. Maybe once she reunited with her sister, she could find out how the story ended.

* * *

Anna's worry for her sister had become a tangible thing, like an additional person, a third party in their still-new relationship. Kristoff had never felt so useless, so unsure of what to do to help. The entire time he'd known Anna, he'd been able to comfort her just by being at her side, but without her sister there, without knowing Elsa was safe, it was like Anna wasn't whole. She was inconsolable, and Kristoff was at a loss of where to even try to start.

She spent the last few days alternating between pacing within the Sirma command tent, where the Admiral had set up a temporary command post, and pacing throughout through the camp, traveling paths she seemed to have laid out in her mind as she looked for any and every way possible to distract herself. Sometimes, Kristoff trailed a few steps behind Anna, there if she needed him, but allowed her the space, knowing that he wasn't who she needed right now. Truth be told, there wasn't much for any of them to do, and even less anyone was willing to allow the heir to the crocus throne to do, let alone the ice harvester permitted to tag along for his knowledge of mountain passes. He had nothing to offer during a political, or tactical, discussion. Anna wasn't taking too well to being sidelined, but Admiral Naismith and Captain Jogeir had reminded her on several occasions, tactfully, that with the Queen missing, she was all Arendelle had. So no, she couldn't venture into potentially hostile territory looking for her sister.

Anna was pacing inside the command tent as Naismith and Jogeir spoke at the table. Erik sat rigidly on a cot with his hands bound and tethered to the pole where Kristoff was told they held Queen Elsa when she wasn't fighting their war. Each time Anna completed a circuit, her gaze would slide in his direction. She expressed some mixed feelings about chaining him to the pole, but Kristoff was more inclined to agree with Alarik when he called it poetic justice.

When an icy breeze blew into the tent Kristoff didn't think much of it, despite the relative warmth inside, it was a crisp evening. When the chilly blast shifted Anna's hair, however, her reaction was immediate and exaggerated. She stopped dead in her tracks, watching as the breeze carried a handful of snow flurries into the tent. She followed them over to the table, inadvertently grabbing the attention of the room as they swirled before settling into the shape of a...

Of a...

Kristoff cocked his head. "Is that a dragon?"

"It's Elsa!" Anna's eyes lighting up for the first time in days.

The admiral and captain wore twin frowns as they leaned in closer to the tiny, snowy beast.

"Elsa's a dragon?" Kristoff asked, the words slipping past his lips.

"No," she said, gesturing to the small dragon. "The dragon is _from_ Elsa."

"Oh," he said, his cheeks burning. "Right." Kristoff rubbed the back of his head, chiding himself for such a foolish outburst. Of course, the tiny dragon made from ice and snow had come from Anna's older sister. He knew the Queen could do such things, had seen it firsthand.

Anna reached toward the dragon, wrapping her fingers around a rolled parchment in its talons that Kristoff hadn't noticed before. The creature relinquished the papers with ease, then its work completed, curled up on the table appearing to take a nap.

There was a light tremor in Anna's hands as her fingers unfurled the letter, and Kristoff took an instinctive step closer. Her eyes moved back and forth across the page, eagerly consuming the first real bit of communication she'd had with her sister in almost a week. Her expression shifted, going through an assortment of emotions as she read, turning from one page to the next. The rest of them stood by, silent, tense, and avoiding eye contact, waiting to hear what information the letter contained.

When Anna went back to the start of the letter, intending to read the entire thing again, Admiral Naismith cleared his throat. "Your Highness?"

Her face went stormy as she stood, slamming the paper down on the table. The dragon raised its head and offered a bored look before returning to its nap. "Of all the stupid, selfish, irresponsible things—" Anna stomped away from the table, then turned on her heel and glared down at the letter.

Kristoff's eyes went wide as he followed her gaze back to the damp, curled pages, wondering what could be in the letter that would entice such a reaction from someone who had been dying to hear from her sister.

Both Jogeir and Naismith looked just as confused. Jogeir stepped toward Anna. "Your Highness? Is everything okay?"

Anna frowned but said nothing. Instead, she gestured to the letter, giving them unspoken permission to read it. Kristoff took a step, but Jogeir was closer. The captain picked the letter up and read its contents aloud.

_My dearest sister,_

_I pray that as you read this, you are no longer in Sirma hands, that our Army was successful in their rescue._

_I know you are scared and worried about me, let me first assure you I am okay. I promise. You may already know the Vindarr ambushed us. They took Tyr and I prisoner. Tyr is currently sitting in their dungeon; I know nothing more than that, nor do I care to._

_The Vindarr's leader, Markkus, has been kind to me thus far. For the moment, I am neither a guest nor prisoner, but something in between. I know that's not very clear, so let me elaborate. They have given me a room, with all the amenities I would have at home, but I may not leave the room unescorted._

_Sort of like the last thirteen years of my life minus the escort, but I digress._

Kristoff frowned. He didn't need to know the Queen very well to grasp the frustration in her words.

_Markkus has assured me they do not want to use my powers to fight for them in any capacity, but at the same time, they don't want the Sirma to use them either. And has insisted I remain under their protection until the war between their two people has ended. At such a time, they will release me, and allow me to return home._

_I do not trust Markkus but find myself believing his words. He has given me no reason to do otherwise. I also feel at this current time I have no other choice than to do so. I don't know where I am, other than an island called Hasvik. The only glimpse of the outside I have been able to see offer nothing other than a view of the ocean and a horizon that appears perpetually blanketed in fog. My magic is still bound behind the cuffs, for reasons I will not go into here, but I am otherwise okay._

_Anna, I have to ask something of you. It may be one of the hardest things you will ever have to do. Believe me when I say I understand what it is I am asking, but duty forces me to ask it, nevertheless._

_You must return to Arendelle._

_I don't know what the date is, only that the trip to Valle was to be no more than five days and we have been gone for far longer. I'm sure the council has created a story to account for our extended absence, but the country has been without leadership for too long already, I need you to go back and reassure the people that nothing is amiss so they don't panic. Or worse, so that word does not reach other kingdoms that may be inclined to act upon a country in a vulnerable position._

_I need you to ensure the food from Valle has made it to Arendelle. It will need to be stored, then distributed to select people. There is a list in the top drawer of my private study that outlines who is to receive what, and how much._

_The council will also need an update on the current situation. I have enclosed with this letter what you should tell them, and how to address concerns I anticipate they may bring up._

_Hold court, Anna, let the people know that everything is okay. If they ask about my absence, do not lie nor deviate from what the council has told them. It will be a fine line to walk, but it's important to assure them everything is okay, and that I will relay the details of events upon my return. The people may not be happy with such a response, especially considering past events, but it should be enough to keep them from panicking, which is key in keeping the kingdom running until my return._

_Markkus assures me that once they deal with the Sirma, they will release me. Without me fighting their war for them, he suspects it will not be much longer._

_If I know my guard captain, he is no more than a few feet from you as you read this. Captain Jogeir is to escort you back to Arendelle to ensure your safe and timely arrival._

_Snowbug, I know you're pissed at me right now, at what I am asking of you. I fear I could never do the same, turn away from you were our situations reversed, but you have always been stronger than I. I need that strength now. Do not let our kingdom suffer for the poor choices we have made that led us here. I beg you to do this for me as your sister, as your friend, and as your Queen._

_All my love,_

_Elsa_

"Well," The Captain breathed as he passed the pages back to Anna. "At least we know it's definitely from the Queen."

"Yeah," Anna huffed, throwing her arms into the air and the pages slipping from her grasp, floating to the ground. "Because only Elsa could be held prisoner by some potentially violent, ruthless warlord, doing god only knows what to her, and _still_ be trying to work."

Kristoff had to duck his head to hide his smile as he crouched to gather the pages, knowing Anna would not take it well. "She does say she's okay," he said, holding out the letter.

Anna only glared in return. She pressed her fingertips to her temples and blew out a long, frustrated breath.

"Did you say Markkus?" Erik spoke up from the other side of the tent. He'd been so quiet Kristoff had forgotten he was there with them.

"You know him?" Naismith asked.

Erik nodded. He shifted his shoulders, his eyes dark. "He's the leader of the Vindarr. I've never met him personally, but I have heard he can be dangerous. I know Tyr didn't care for him—"

"Tyr also kidnapped myself and my sister," Anna interrupted, "then let your soldiers believe she stole her magic from the spirits like the Vindarr so they'd be less inclined to help her. Therefore, you'll have to forgive me if I don't hold your brother's opinion in any type of regard."

Kristoff jerked his head back; having never heard such venom in Anna's voice.

Erik cleared his throat. "I understand, but Tyr had been working on a treaty with the Vindarr sometime ago. When he returned home, he said Markkus was underhanded, cruel, and untrustworthy. Tyr stated that the man betrayed us. A few days later, someone killed our father, and the Landvættir's magic vanished."

Jogeir frowned. "You think this Markkus character had something to do with that?" he asked.

Erik shrugged. "Wouldn't you? The Vindarr launched their first attack only days later."

Anna frowned and walked over to Kristoff, taking the letter back and looking it over with a narrowed gaze. "Maybe, but Elsa says she believes him. She's not the type to just _believe_ someone for no reason."

"She also says she doesn't trust him," Erik countered.

Anna wrinkled her nose. "As much as it pains me to say it, Elsa is also a politician, and a very skilled one at that. Trust is not something she gives freely, or often." She chewed her lip. "Still, something feels off."

"You think the Vindarr forced her to write the letter?" Kristoff asked.

"No," Anna said, shaking her head. "If that was the case, she wouldn't have asked me to return to Arendelle. The words are hers and hers alone, that I'm sure of. But it feels too . . . compliant." She sighed. "God knows I love my sister more than anything in the world, but the woman does not take orders well. From anyone. And maybe it's nothing. Maybe after everything the _Sirma_ —" she glared in Erik's direction, "—did to her, she's just tired of fighting." She shrugged, looking more than a little tired herself.

Kristoff cocked his head, wanting to wrap her in a hug, but this had quickly turned into a meeting that went way over his head, and he knew the best thing was to stand back and allow Anna to decide what they should do next.

"What are your orders, ma'am?" Admiral Naismith asked, as though he were reading Kristoff's mind.

Anna folded her arms across her chest, face twisting. "A messenger was already dispatched to Arendelle," she said with some hesitation, after a long moment of silence, "to send the ships on standby north. Elsa didn't say _not_ to rescue her, so I think we should continue trying to locate the Vindarr fortress. Hasvik, I think she called it."

"And Your Highness?" Jogeir asked.

Anna sighed, her gaze skipping past Kristoff's face as she looked to the captain with resignation written plainly across her face. "I guess we're going home."

* * *

Elsa sat on the floor at the foot of her bed, arms wrapped around her legs as she watched the fire crackling in the hearth, sending out a warm glow across the otherwise dark room. The tightness in her chest had eased a bit as she watched her ice dragon carry her letter away. She knew what she was asking of her sister was unfair. There was no doubt in her mind, not even for a second, that if their roles were reversed, she could never walk away, no matter the circumstance.

Her fingers twisted in the cloth of her leggings. She hoped her sister was safe, out of danger. Elsa took a breath and reminded herself—not for the first time, nor for the last—that Tyr was here in Hasvik, in Markkus's dungeon. He couldn't hurt Anna, and while Erik had been complicit in Tyr's actions, it was a far cry from participation. Alarik was also there at the Sirma camp, so even if something delayed the army, he would protect Anna. She knew he wouldn't let anything happen to her sister.

Elsa untangled her fingers from her clothing, but kept her arms wrapped around her legs. Her thoughts drifted away from Anna's current situation, to Markkus's offer. A thrill raced up her spine and settled in her chest, causing her breath to catch. She was still having a hard time wrapping her mind around what he was offering, around the possibility that the one thing she had wanted most of her life might actually be within her grasp.

She stared into the fire and mentally turned over the offer, examining it from every side, looking for the catch, for what Markkus might get out of such an arrangement. So far, she had come up with nothing other than she'd be in his debt. Already, there were two problems with that. First, that he was unaware of the enormity of what he was offering her, what it meant to her, and second, that holding someone in your debt was an exercise in faith. If he one day came to cash in on the debt, there was nothing binding Elsa to help him. Which led her back to the question—what was he getting out of this?

She thought once more about Tyr's warning, that Markkus could do much worse than anything he himself had done. She rubbed her neck, doubting the legitimacy of his words. There was no reason for Elsa to believe anything Tyr said.

No matter how many times she turned it over in her mind, she could find no pitfalls in allowing Markkus to train her. If Elsa could learn to separate her emotions from her magic, then she could give Anna what she'd wanted for a long time, what they both wanted. She could have conversations with her sister and express her emotions without trying to conceal them or having to worry about starting a potentially apocalyptic snowstorm.

_Well_ , she mused, it won't be a cure by any stretch of the imagination, but it _would_ be one less barrier standing between them, and that was worth more than any risk.

Elsa tipped her head back against the bed's footboard, her eyes drifting shut. As some of the tension that had built up within her body seeped away, a warmth spread through her limbs. She sat there in the stillness, allowing herself to hold on to the calm moment. She was just contemplating moving from the floor to the bed and trying her hand at sleep when the door burst open.

Elsa startled at the sudden intrusion, a ring of thin frost pooling on the floor around her as two guards came into her room. She had barely made it to her feet by the time they crossed to her, grabbed her by the arms and pulled her toward the open door.

"Hey!" She tried to wrench her arms from their bruising grip, planting her feet against the floor, but they jerked her forward, and she stumbled into the hallway. The guards pulled her in the opposite direction that she knew Markkus's office was, and her heart pounded against her chest as she struggled to keep up with their long strides. "Where are you taking me?"

One guard gave her a sidelong glance, but no answer. Elsa's mind raced to catch up with what was happening. Since her arrival in Hasvik, the guards had kept a respectful distance, never so much as laying a hand on her when escorting her around the fortress. Something had changed, but she didn't know if it had to do with Markkus, the training she agreed to, or something else entirely.

Markkus had mentioned her first night that she was responsible for the Sirma's recent victories, and indirectly responsible for a lot of Vindarr deaths. A chill rushed through her as she remembered his warning, the possibility of someone attempting retaliation against her. Had someone spotted her ice dragon and found out she was here?

Her heart hammered against her chest. The guards took her down a staircase, turning into a dark hallway before stopping in front of a small doorless room, barely wide enough to fit a large man, and pitch-black, devoid of any windows or light source.

Another man approached them from the opposite direction from which they'd come. He appeared well-dressed, with greying hair and a long scar that ran from the corner of his eye to his jawline.

_A soldier_ , Elsa thought. She drew her shoulders back and lifted her chin, trying to hide the sudden rolling sensation in her stomach. "What is the meaning of this?"

The soldier stopped directly in front of her and reached out, grabbing her left wrist, turning it with a painful twist. He pulled a familiar-looking pendant from his pocket and placed it into the indentation on her cuff. When he twisted the pendant, the stone imbedded there dimmed. Wordlessly, he repeated the process with the other cuff. Throughout the entire process, the guards never released her arms.

Elsa looked blankly from the deactivated cuffs to the man standing before her.

The soldier stepped back, clearing the doorway, and shoved the pendant back into his pocket. "Good luck."

"I don't—"

The guards tightening their grip on her arms was all the warning she got before they shoved her into the tiny room. She caught herself against the back wall, twisting around just in time to see a yellowish glow from around the soldier's neck. A wall of stone slammed across the doorway, plunging the room into absolute darkness.

Elsa's eyes widened, she surged forward, slamming her fists against the thick stone. Ice exploded and cracked across the wall with each impact. Her mind froze as she struggled to breathe through the smothering tightness in her chest, the wave of heat washing over her.

This was a test; it had to be. There was no way they were going to leave her entombed in this tiny space. If they wanted her dead, there were far better ways to do it and they wouldn't have allowed her the use of her magic. This had to be a part of Markkus's training. All she had to do was figure out the answer. She could do that; she was good at tests.

Elsa's fingers scraped against the rough stone as she searched out any kind of seam, or crack in the wall, anything she could use as a way out. When she found nothing, she yelled, slamming her hands against the wall. Her forehead fell forward, striking the stone with a hollow thud. She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling lightheaded and flushed, she forced herself to take a deep breath, holding it for a moment before letting it back out.

After thirteen years of seclusion, one would think she'd grown used to enclosed spaces, but it was the exact opposite. It was why, no matter what room she was in back home, there was almost always a window open. Elsa hated the feeling of being trapped or enclosed in a single space. She couldn't breathe.

She curled her fingers into a tight fist, rolling her head against the rock. "You're fine," she told herself. "There's enough air. You can do this."

She took another breath, attempting to swallow past the sudden dryness in her throat. All she had to do was break out of one room. She had created an ice palace on a whim, with little effort; she could free herself from a tiny room. Elsa took a step back, pressing against the wall behind her, and held out her hands. She concentrated on her magic and directed a blast of ice against the wall. An icy blue light overtook the small, dark space as her magic exploded against the stone.

The ice and light quickly melted away, plunging the room once more into darkness. Elsa ran her hand over the spot on the wall and found a chunk of stone had broken away. She prepared to blast it a second time, but the stone moved under her hand, repairing itself.

Elsa set her jaw and pulled her shoulders back. She tried once more, pouring even more power into the blast. As before, the wall mended itself. Another wave of heat washed over her, stronger than the first. Every breath was a struggle as she tried to break the wall a third time, then a fourth to the same result.

Her heart raced, thudded against her ribs, she sagged back against the wall, arms hanging limp at her sides and blood pounding loud in her ears. Elsa closed her eyes and dropped her head back against the wall. Frost crept across the stone, traveling only a few inches before melting away.

Her eyes snapped open as she realized the heat she was feeling wasn't from exertion; it was the _room_. It had grown significantly hotter, unbearably so. Elsa pressed a hand to the back of her neck and released a flood of refreshing ice to cool herself off. It worked for a moment, but then the temperature increase, the stone around her becoming uncomfortably hot.

Elsa pulled up the sleeves of her tunic, trying desperately to cool off. She held her hands out to her sides and sent a powerful blast of ice around the room, coating every surface. The room became blissfully cool for a moment before the ice melted, turning the air both hot and humid.

She slumped against the burning wall, sliding to the ground as a profound wave of dizziness crashed into her. Elsa pressed a trembling hand against her forehead and curled in on herself, struggling to breathe through the thick, suffocating air. Her heart continued to race, pounding in her ears, as she tried to figure out what she needed to accomplish here, what Markkus wanted her to learn.

Ice continued to snap and melt, responding to her raising desperation. Heart thundering, lungs thick and useless, the darkness threatened to overtake her completely.


	27. House of Cards

Rayna frowned as she took in the unmade bed. Everything she'd learned of Joan since her arrival to the fortress told Ray that she was a neat person. Not that she made up her bed every morning, but she straightened everything out, so it didn't look quite so messy. This morning when Ray came in, she found the pillows and blankets laying haphazardly across the bed, which could only mean one thing; the guards had come for Joan in the middle of the night. Again.

Ray sighed as she adjusted the covers and fixed the pillows, putting everything back in its place. Whatever state Joan was in when they brought her back, chances were high she would go directly to bed. This was the third time in just as many days that the guards had taken her down to that room, and it was clear it was wearing on her. Ray had seen it in the woman's eyes when she dropped off lunch yesterday—the weight that was accumulating Joan's shoulders. She wanted desperately to help but knew she couldn't; Markkus told her and the guards to treat Joan like they would any other trainee. That meant leaving her to figure out the tests on her own. No interference, no help.

She had watched plenty of trainees go through the same tests. Most of them figured it out, eventually, though some took longer than others. Some couldn't handle the pressure and quit, giving up the chance of harnessing magic. Given the circumstances that brought her to Hasvik, Ray wasn't sure Joan _had_ the option to quit.

Ray finished tucking in the bottom corner of the blanket then turned down the bed, so it was ready for use. She turned to put more wood on the fire when an icy breeze swept into the room. She frowned, crossing the room to the open window; she started to pull it shut, only to stop halfway through the motion. Joan must have opened the window for a reason. She could imagine that a woman with the ability to create ice and snow was probably more comfortable with the cold, and considering where Joan currently was, she would likely appreciate the brush of cool air in the room when she returned.

Ray dropped her hand and turned back toward the room, her eyes going wide as she found herself staring at what appeared to be a tiny white dragon on the table, laying across a rolled-up piece of parchment. She stood, watching the creature, unsure what to make of it.

The dragon watched her back, tilting its head to the side; Ray mirrored the movement and tilted her own head. She then approached the tiny beast, holding out her hand like one would for a stray dog. The dragon inched forward. It sniffed her hand, then let out a huff of frosted air that covered her fingers.

"Hey!" Ray jumped and pulled her hand back, brushing her hand against her dress.

The dragon nudged the paper toward her, then dissolved into a flurry of snowflakes that faded into the surrounding air.

Ray blinked at the suddenly empty space, then reached to pick up the parchment. She pulled at the green ribbon wrapped around the paper and unrolled the letter. Her gaze moved across the first line.

_My dearest, most favoritest sister,_

_I'm on my way back to Arendelle as per her Majesty's request, but you should know that I'm going to move something in your room when I get there._

"Oh!" Ray exclaimed, tearing her gaze away and rolling the paper back up. This letter was not meant for her; considering a dragon made of snow delivered it, it was likely meant for Joan. She re-wrapped the ribbon around the letter, intending to put it on the nightstand next to the bed, knowing that receiving a letter from home would do wonders to bring up Joan's mood. She stopped halfway to her destination, jumping as the door suddenly opened.

Two guards entered, one carrying the unconscious woman in his arms. Ray's shoulders slumped and she let out a long breath. "Again?" She had hoped Joan would have figured out the test this time around.

The other man shrugged. "You know as well as I do that it can take them a few tries to get it." He grimaced as his companion placed Joan gently on the bed. "Some more than others."

"At least she's not as heavy as them." The guard carrying Joan quipped as he took a step back.

This was Joan's third time in the room, and the third time they had carried her back after having passed out, most likely from the heat. There had been some trainees in the past who became overwhelmed by the small, dark, silent room, who passed out after hyperventilating. Considering how hot Joan had been the last two times they carried her back; She was putting her money on the former.

Ray tucked her dark hair behind her ears, crossing the distance to the bed, and setting the letter on the nightstand as she took in Joan's condition. Her face was flushed, and her breathing came in short, ragged pants, like each one was costing more energy than she had. Ray's stomach twisted as she placed the back of her hand against the woman's cheek, then jerked back. She was burning up.

Ray turned toward the guards, fury burning in her gaze. "How long did you leave her in there?"

The guard that carried Joan in raised his hands in defense as he rocked back a step. "Hey, you know we have no say in that. The sergeant controls the door and is the only one who can open it. Us non-magic folk, we just do the babysitting."

Ray huffed, grabbing a cloth draped over a bowl of ice water, thanking her own foresight to have it ready just in case. She dipped the washcloth in the bowl and wrung it out before laying it across Joan's hot, dry forehead. The woman responded with a muted whimper, turning her face into the cold cloth.

"Well, Markkus will not be happy if Sergeant Jerkface makes Joan sick. Or worse." The very moment a trainee passed out, the sergeant knew about it and was supposed to open the door to ensure they didn't get sick, or worse, from overexposure to the intense heat. There had been a few instances when the sergeant had left a trainee inside too long and they became horribly ill, forced to take a break before continuing. Some of them quit.

"Yeah, hate to see Markkus's new toy broken," the guard mumbled.

The other man snorted, rolling his eyes. "You're just upset that she doesn't like you."

"She's being held against her will," he retorted. "I'm pretty sure she doesn't like anyone right now."

Ray shook her head, ignoring the two guards as they bickered. She folded some ice into a second cloth and placed it against Joan's neck; then dipped the first one back into the melting water and washed the sweat from Joan's limbs, allowing the cold water to go to work against her overheated skin. She had almost forgotten about the guards when one of them grabbed something off the nightstand.

"What's this?"

Ray looked over her shoulder to see the letter in his hand. She shrugged. "A letter from her family, I think. A tiny little ice dragon brought it in through the window."

The guard raised his eyebrows. "An ice dragon?"

Ray nodded, though she realized how crazy it sounded. "It flew in through the window, dropped the letter, and then poof," she said, waving a hand in the air. "It disappeared into a cloud of snowflakes."

"Snowflakes?" The guard looked down at the unconscious woman, letting out a deep breath. "You know that Markkus is going to want to see this?"

Ray wrinkled her nose. "Why? They allow trainees to get letters from people."

The guard pressed his lips together, grimacing. "I know Markkus said to treat her like a regular trainee, but she's not. She's a prisoner." The guard turned to the other and handed off the letter, jerking his chin toward the door. The other man nodded and left the room, taking the letter with him.

Ray shook her head. "She's only here until the fighting with the Sirma is over."

"Kid, the Sirma stopped fighting almost a week ago. Their leader is down in the dungeons, and their only real advantage is laying passed out in front of you. Rumor is some other force has occupied their camp. Not sure who or why and don't much care either, just glad it's done."

"What?" Ray blinked. "But Markkus told her she could go home once they stopped."

The guard's lips twitched, and he narrowed his eyes. "You don't honestly think Markkus is going to train her to use her magic and then let her go, do you?"

Ray opened her mouth, then snapped it shut. She _did_ think that, because that's what Markkus had told her.

The guard shook his head. "Kid, I don't know what Markkus's plan for her is, but it's not catch and release. Her magic isn't like the mages, they can help our people in more ways than just fighting." He started ticking things off on his fingers. "Fire to warm a house, water to bring rain to the crops, wind to move the boats, or earth to build shelters. Her magic is like Markkus's." He lowered his chin, folded his arms over his chest. "They can only use it for one thing and that's destruction. And if the descriptions of the last battle are true, then her magic is a whole lot stronger than anyone here, including Markkus himself. There's no way a man like him is going to let someone like her go."

Ray dropped her gaze, twisting the damp cloth between her hands. She didn't want to believe him; she didn't want to believe that Markkus would lie to her, or worse, to Joan. She didn't know much about the woman, but was certain it would devastate Joan to think Markkus was not going to release her as promised. If this was truly the plan, then it made little sense. At some point, Joan would become suspicious and start asking to go home again, and if Markkus didn't let her, she could simply refuse to play ball. He would have no way of using her magic.

Ray bit down on her lip. She turned and saw that the wrapped ice she had tucked under Joan's neck was melting. She knew Markkus wasn't planning on using the cuffs to drain Joan's magic; if he was, he would have done it already. Either wasn't interested in doing so, or the unique nature of her magic prevented him.

No. She didn't believe what the guard was telling her; it didn't make sense for Markkus to lie about letting Joan go. Holding her here against her will would only help him in the short-term, and Joan didn't seem like the type to let someone string her along for any significant length of time. The fortress guards liked to gossip; he had probably just heard something from someone else, and things ended up lost in translation. Ray nodded to herself as she folded more ice into the cloth and returned it to Joan's neck.

"Look, kid—"

"I'm not a kid," she bit out, glaring at him.

"Sure." He backed away toward the door. "If you need anything, just yell." He left the room, closing the door behind him.

Ray turned back to her charge, laying the back of her hand against the woman's forehead. Though still too hot, Joan seemed a bit cooler, and her breathing was evening out. She shifted on the bed, her eyelids fluttering. Ray set the cloth aside on the nightstand, grabbing the medicine she had set out there.

Markkus had saved her from being thrown out of the fortress when her father died. No matter what the guard had said, Ray knew Markkus wouldn't lie to her.

* * *

The waves rolled and crashed, but the incoming white foam stopped short of reaching the shoreline, like the water was striking an invisible barrier, an unseen wall of some kind. Elsa dug her toes into the dark pebbles. Ever since she was a child, even before the incident with her sister, this place had always been a refuge for her, a haven. As she grew older, it became a place she could retreat to, somewhere she could hide from the world and leave behind the pressures and responsibilities that rested so heavily upon her shoulders. It was a place where she could be herself without fear, the _only_ place. After her parents disappeared, it became a life raft within a raging storm that she didn't know how to control.

The last time Elsa had retreated to this place, that feeling of safeness shattered, sharp splinters of her sanctuary left broken at her feet. Now, it was gone completely. For the first time, she felt . . . nothing.

The siren's call that had teased answers to forgotten questions was gone. The sun hidden behind dark ominous clouds that churned overhead and flashes of lightning danced across the sky. There was no longer a thick haze; but the dark pebbles beneath her were still uncomfortably warm. A hot wind blew through the cove, scorching the air, and her lungs, making it hard to breathe.

Elsa watched as the tide washed along the shore. The water stopped just outside of her reach, just like her magic, and just like the siren's song. Those things that were innately a part of her, the things no one was supposed to be able to take, were gone. Stripped away and held at ransom for a prize she had yet to discern.

She wrapped her arms tighter around her tented legs and rested her chin on her knees. She didn't know how long she sat like that, kept company by a soft buzzing in the back of her mind and the waves rolling to and fro. The repetitive motion of the water lulled her into a daze, making her feel sleepy enough that she almost missed the floating light in the distance, a faint blue glow standing out against the dark grey around her. Elsa sat up as the little blue light bounced along the waves, growing closer. Her head jerked back as it passed through the invisible wall that was separating her from the sea, and from her magic.

She watched the soft blue light with growing interest. In all the times she had visited this place, she had always been alone. It was the one thing that had remained the same, other than the persistent siren's pull. Elsa dropped her hands and shifted so she was sitting up on her knees. She tilted her head as it grew closer still, knowing that whatever the light was, it would not harm her. She wasn't sure _how_ she knew that, only that she could feel it in the very marrow of her bones.

She reached out a hand, and the little blue light hovered around her fingers. It bounced suddenly, twisting around her outstretched fingers and up her arm, moving down the other before settling in her palm. Elsa chuckled. "Well, hello to you too."

The light bounced in response, and Elsa felt the movement in her mind, a faint brush against her conscious like the soothing flow of a mountain stream. The oppressive heat surrounding her seemed to lessen; suddenly it was easier to breathe, to think. She squinted down at the little light resting in her palm, but before she had a chance to ask the question forming on her lips, the light brushed once more against her mind. This time she saw faint images, endless oceans and babbling brooks, roaring waterfalls and still mirror lakes.

Elsa blinked, shaking her head. "I don't—" The far too short sense of cooling relief faded away, and the heat increased, growing unbearable. The buzzing grew, making it hard to think. "I don't understand."

The light shook, sending a feeling of agitation knocking against her mind. She pressed her lips into a tight line as more images flashed before her eyes: a golden cage, an open window with a vast ocean spreading beyond it, a shattered crystal, and splinters trapped within ice against a dead man's chest. Something about the last image struck Elsa with an echo of familiarity, but it faded too quickly, and the thought slipped away.

She pressed her palm against her forehead, shifting uncomfortably as her chest tightened. A strong feeling of desperation and imprisonment brushed her thoughts, and it took a moment for her to realize the feelings weren't just her own. Her eyebrows scrunched up as she appraised the glowing blue light atop her palm. "You need help?"

The light bounced.

Elsa shook her head. "I'm sorry, I don't know how."

The image of the shattered crystal brushed her mind once more. "I don't understand," she gritted out, as the buzzing in her head increased, along with the heat. She curled forward, pulling the light close to her chest as she struggled to breathe through the heat and building frustration. She felt a hint of worry brush her mind and looked down at the little light pressed against her. Spots gathered in front of her eyes, and when she tried to blink them away, her vision darkened, a veil of black falling over her as her chest heaved, working fruitlessly to pull oxygen from the thick air.

A whimper of sound spilt unbidden across her lips. She felt a hand at the back of her neck as someone tilted her head. A cool liquid washed across her swollen, dry tongue. Elsa leaned forward as much as she could, drinking greedily as the water soothed her parched throat. She was halfway through the glass before she realized there was a pleasant nutty taste but was far too thirsty to give it any more thought. She rasped a disappointed noise when the glass emptied faster than she wanted.

"If you drink it too fast, you're just gonna throw it up."

Elsa lifted a heavy hand and pressed her palm against her eyes, rubbing away the gritty feeling. She blinked a few times, and a blurry image of Ray slowly came into view. "Wha?"

"You passed out, again. I'm assuming from heat exhaustion." Ray placed the empty glass on the nightstand and pulled a cloth from the large bowl sitting there, wringing out the excess water.

Elsa dropped her head back to the pillow, groaning as her memory caught up with her. _That's right_ , she thought, remembering. She'd been in the room again, trying to find a way out. This was the third time she had failed, and instead of getting easier, it seemed to get harder. Her anxiety and panic building even before they had a chance to shove her into the tiny airless room. This last time, the heat had built up at an alarming rate. She remembered alternating between trying to break through the door and cooling herself down. She remembered feeling lightheaded and dizzy, and then . . . nothing.

A gloriously cold cloth was draped over Elsa's forehead, startling her before going to work easing the pounding in her skull. She laid still with her eyes closed, and after a few minutes felt herself cooling down little by little, until she felt she could breathe again.

"Well, that's . . . useful."

Elsa opened her eyes and looked toward Ray, then followed the girl's gaze down to the sheet draped over her. A thin layer of frost covered it. A thrill shot up Elsa's spin and she looked down at her wrist, but the soft glow from the cuffs quickly shattered the faint glimmer of hope. She wrinkled her nose in disappointment but wasn't surprised. Of course, they wouldn't forget to reactivate the cuffs. She remembered the bit of ice she had accidently created in the tent with Alarik and Anna, what felt like forever ago, but decided not to worry too much about it right now, finding it more curious than useful in her present circumstance.

Still feeling tired and drained, but no longer like she was baking alive in her own skin, Elsa pulled the washcloth from her forehead. She pressed her hands against mattress, pushing herself upright in bed and leaning back against the pillows. She blew out a heavy breath as she settled.

Ray laid the cloth in the bowl and poured a glass of water, handing it to Elsa before hopping up on the bed.

"Thank you." She took a drink of water, forcing herself to sip slowly, not willing to take the chance of it coming back up if she drank too fast. She held the glass between her hands, resting it on her lap, and watched the water move lazily in the small space. An image flashed across her mind, too quick for her to grasp. It felt important, like both a warning and a cry for help, but the harder she tried to remember the further it slipped away, like remnants of a hazy dream. She pressed her lips into a thin line and narrowed her gaze at the water.

"If it makes you feel better," Ray said, interrupting her thoughts, "some trainees take a lot of tries before figuring it out."

Elsa's brows squished together. It took her a moment to realize Ray had misinterpreted her silence as frustration toward the training. Though it wasn't what she had been thinking about at that exact moment, she couldn't deny the overwhelming feeling of disappointment. This was only the first bit of training she'd received, and already she was failing horribly. It didn't set a good precedent.

She rubbed her fingers against her brow. "It doesn't." She had always been good at puzzles and tests; the fact that she couldn't get this one left her feeling irritated with herself. "I don't understand how I'm supposed to get out of the room if the walls keep repairing themselves. And the heat . . . " Between the claustrophobic space and the overwhelming heat, she wasn't sure which was worse. The combination was a brutal mix that had sent her into a panic attack each time until she passed out from the rising temperature.

Ray scrunched up her face, dropping her gaze to her swinging feet.

Elsa raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"I'm not supposed to help."

Elsa watched the younger girl but didn't want to press her for information she wasn't meant to give.

After a tense moment of silence, Ray sighed. "Maybe," she started slowly, "you're not supposed to escape the room."

Elsa tilted her head, considering the idea. "Then what?"

Ray mirrored the motion, turning on the bed to face Elsa. "Markkus didn't offer to teach you how to use your magic. Did he?"

"No," Elsa said, shaking her head. "He offered to teach me how to control it."

"Right." Ray nodded. "But in what context?"

"He—" Elsa stopped short, recalling the conversation she had with Markkus in the courtyard. "Oh," she breathed, suddenly understanding what he had offered.

* * *

Kristoff stuck close as they rode towards Arendelle, hardly drifting more than a few inches from Anna's side since being reunited. The two were in the middle of the riding party, sandwiched between Captain Jogeir in front and another guard bringing up the rear. Their journey had started slow, the Northern passes now nearly impossible to travel, but thanks to Kristoff's knowledge they were able to make it through. Anna couldn't deny there was a large part of her that had hoped the roads would be too dangerous to traverse, forcing them to return to camp.

The last thing Anna wanted to do right now was return to Arendelle. She had considered ignoring her sister's request outright but ultimately knew, as always, that Elsa was right. Her sister had planned on a five-day trip, long enough to get to Valle, work things out with the Baron and come home. It was a trip she had planned to embark on solo but, thanks to some encouragement, Anna invited herself along at the last minute, leaving the kingdom temporarily without reassurance of a member of the royal family nearby.

Those five days had now turned into a month, and Anna wasn't surprised her sister asked her to return to Arendelle. Irritated, of course, but not surprised. If there was one thing Elsa excelled at more than anything, it was putting the needs of the kingdom above her own. Anna had to remind herself that it had only been a few months since her sister was crowned and it was possible that, eventually, Elsa would settle into a more reasonable rhythm, giving more weight to her own needs. Until then, with Elsa unable to, the responsibility fell on Anna's shoulders, no matter how much she hated it and childishly wanted to rail against it.

If their situations were reversed, Elsa wouldn't have walked away. She would have moved mountains and leveled the earth to get to Anna. But Elsa also possessed magic that could quite possibly do just that, and she would somehow do so while still running the kingdom without so much as a hiccup. But Anna wasn't her sister. She couldn't do the things Elsa could. She was just Anna, the understudy who forgot to study. The spare.

Anna sighed. As much as she wanted to stay at the camp, there was nothing for her to do, even when Arendelle's ships arrived, they would still have to locate Hasvik through the surrounding fog. Then, and only then, could they plan what to do next. Assuming that was something they needed to do.

Despite her own misgivings about the Vindarr's leader, Anna continued to hold on to hope that he wasn't lying to her sister. Elsa was good at spotting a lie, at knowing when she was being deceived; she would have to be in order to negotiate with various countries for trade and alliances. But Anna realized with a start that didn't actually _know_ this about her sister, because she'd never seen Elsa in the midst of a negotiation. Now that she thought about it, Anna hadn't seen her sister perform many of the duties required of her as Queen. She'd watched Elsa during court a few times, but much of what her older sister did—the meetings, council, negotiations—all took place behind closed doors.

Anna's father had always encouraged her to take an interest in the fine details of running a kingdom, those things that happened during closed-door meetings. But Anna had always been more interested in the people rather than laws, taxes, and trades. When the gates were finally opened and she was reunited with her sister, Anna couldn't be happier, but considering they had barely spoken in thirteen years, there was a lot of unsteady ground between them. Neither sister felt equipped to cross it, and both were afraid of falling short of the other's expectations. With everything else in the mix, Anna had known it wasn't going to be an easy road for either of them; they clashed on several occasions. She made a conscious effort to stay out of Elsa's way as much as she could while her sister was working, and because of that there was still a lot about Elsa that Anna knew solely based on what she'd been told by others.

Anna had once heard some councilors talking about how the Queen could sniff out a deception, and she realized she was putting a lot of weight in that secondhand information. Perhaps if she'd paid more attention to such things herself, they might not be in this mess.

If Elsa was right about Markkus—and Anna badly wanted to believe she was—then the Vindarr leader would release her once the fighting stop. Since Arendelle's military now held the Sirma encampment with Erik in their custody, and Tyr was in a dungeon like Elsa said, there was no one left to fight the Vindarr. A brief discussion with Erik had filled Anna with even more hope, as the man was willing, if Markkus was, to negotiate a permanent peace between the two people with the understanding that Arendelle would mediate. Anna couldn't promise mediation—that was up to Elsa—but she could ask on their behalf. If it meant putting an end to the violence, they had dragged her and her sister into; it was a small price to pay.

Anna sent a letter back to her sister with the small icy dragon, reassuring Elsa that she was, however reluctantly, returning to Arendelle. She may have left out that she had every intention of returning north the moment she settled things in Arendelle. She was determined to be there for whatever happened next. They were in this situation _because_ of her, and Anna would not allow her sister to deal with the fallout alone.

She told her sister in the letter about what had happened in the Sirma camp, that she was okay, and the Sirma weren't fighting anymore. Perhaps that information would be enough for the Vindarr to release her, but there was a nagging voice in the back of Anna's head telling her it wouldn't be. Telling her there was something else going on here, with Elsa, that her sister either didn't want to share or wasn't fully aware of.

While the others had moved around the camp gathering what they needed for the journey back to Arendelle, Anna sat in the command tent reading over Elsa's letter until she committed the entire message to memory. She couldn't shake that feeling that something was off, like a single instrument playing one beat faster than the rest of the orchestra. It was subtle, hard to pick out, unless you knew exactly where to look.

Now, riding through the frigid wilderness in silence, Anna couldn't stop replaying her sister's words in her mind. The feeling had lingered, and the further she got from Elsa, the stronger it grew. The temptation had risen more than once to turn around and head back, but each time Kristoff talked her out of it by reminding her there was nothing she could do up north. That, until the ships arrived, they were in a holding pattern. At least in Arendelle, Anna could do _something_ , even if it wasn't what she wanted to be doing.

They spent the night in Valle. Anna checked in with the Baron, ensuring they had sent the food delivery to Arendelle, and they continued south before first light. The group stopped only once more, the halfway point between Valle and Arendelle, to swap out for fresh horses.

Now, as they crested the last hill and Arendelle came into view, Anna's chest tightened with mixed feelings. She was excited to be home, dreading the inevitable meeting with the council, and guilty for both the part she played in this mess and for being safe at home when her sister was not. She would have to answer for her actions; the council would undoubtedly want to know what happened and why she had gone against her sister's decision. When she first went to talk to Erik after being expressly told not to, it was a moment of sibling rebellion. Anna had allowed herself to forget, in the moment, that every choice her sister made was with the weight of the crown. For anyone else, such an action could be considered treason. The council couldn't really _do_ anything to her, not without Elsa's approval, but Anna was sure they would take the opportunity to berate her for everything they disapproved of, and she deserved all of it.

Anna took a deep breath and rolled her shoulders as they approached the castle gates, which had been closed while they were gone. There was no reason for visitors to the castle when there was no one there to receive them. People could still come and go as needed; they just did so through a door off the main entrance. As the gates opened with a loud protesting moan, Anna realized they'd been closed for nearly a month. Considering that the last time they were closed it had been for thirteen years, she suddenly understood Elsa's worry that the citizens in Arendelle might grow concerned.

When the group slowed to a stop in the courtyard, Anna looked up to the castle's highest point, her stomach twisting painfully. It was the place where a giant snowflake stood, catching the sun's rays and twisting them in various colors. Or it was supposed to. It was the Queen's standard and Elsa had removed it before she left, signifying her absence from the castle. In light of everything, the bare spire felt like a far heavier presence than it had when they left.

Anna dismounted and headed inside, trusting the staff to care for the horses. Kristoff's hand slipped into her own with a comforting squeeze, and she offered him a smile, unable to otherwise express how grateful she was that he was there. Whatever happened, she wasn't doing it alone.

They had barely crossed into the castle when she heard Gerda's voice echo along the hallway. "Princess Anna!"

It was like a balm for her nerves. Anna smiled and quickly covered the distance between them, throwing her arms around the older woman. "Gerda."

Gerda hesitated only a moment before returning the hug. She rubbed Anna's back soothingly before stepping away with a soft _tsk_. "Gracious, child, you are filthy."

Anna chuckled despite herself. She couldn't count the times Gerda had uttered those same words to her as she was growing up. For a moment, everything felt normal, until Gerda's next words shattered the feeling.

"The Queen?" She looked from Anna to Captain Jogeir, who stood behind her.

Anna bit down on her bottom lip, then drew her shoulders back as she tried to channel as much of her sister as she could. Remembering her sister's words— _don't lie to the people but don't stray from what the council had told them_ —the first thing she needed to know was what they had said about their absence. "I need to assemble the council," she said firmly.


	28. Don't Look Down

Elsa let her head fall back against the headboard of her bed. Ray had left a short time ago, wanting to give her some time to rest, knowing she only had a few hours to do so. Markkus had warned Elsa that this would be challenging, she had thought she was prepared for what that meant. She'd faced many challenges throughout her life; there was a lot people expected out of her, and she worked hard to meet those often-lofty expectations. But she realizing now that those had been intellectual challenges, things she could solve like a puzzle, thinking the issue through to a correct, logical solution. This—this room; it posed a physical obstacle and a mental one, and was quickly realizing she was far from prepared for it.

She was tired, frayed, and working on very little sleep. Each time the guards brought her back from the room, they allowed her a few hours of rest before they came for her once more. At this point, Elsa was fairly certain she had spent more time in the stone-walled claustrophobic room than she had in this one.

She knew she should take this opportunity to get some sleep while she could, but her mind kept drifting back to what Ray had said, and her conversation with Markkus. Elsa had confided in him that her magic was intertwined with her emotions, and that whenever she was in a heightened emotional state, her magic would respond, that it was often hard to pull back under control. She had spent most of her life attempting to conceal her emotions, learning how to keep a tight lid on them so that her magic wouldn't spiral out of her control.

The Vindarr leader had shaken his head and told her that approach was likely the exact reason why she _couldn't_ control her magic. Markkus stated that she didn't need to control her emotions any more than any normal person. What she needed to learn, to practice, was how to control her magic while in a heightened emotional state.

Elsa was always quick to pick up the nuances of an exchange, the things people said and how they said them. When Markkus told her he could help her, she had been so captivated by the idea of control that she somehow missed exactly what it was he was offering. She understood that he was offering the ability to control her magic while feeling emotions that would normally trigger them, but it had somehow escaped her that, in order to learn such a skill, she would have to be in a situation where she was in that heightened emotional state. Something the dark, airless room had done so almost instantly.

Her chest tightened just thinking about the tomblike space, knowing they were going to force her back in there, soon. Instead of getting easier, each session in the room proved harder than the one before, as her anxiety and panic gripped her mercilessly, before she even made it there. Once she was in the room, the cuffs deactivated, her magic responded to her frenzied mental state, snapping and cracking against the walls. And then, each time, the heat climbed at an alarming rate. But now that Elsa had stopped to think and consider what Ray told her, she realized that the heat only climbed _after_ her magic slipped out of her control.

Growing up, they had taught her to control her magic through avoidance—avoid your emotions, avoid your magic showing. Conceal, don't feel. Avoidance was a challenge, yes, but far easier when the only people she had to interact with were tutors, her parents, and select castle staff. Even after her parents went missing and Elsa took over running the kingdom, she still only met with the council once a month, while they handled many of the day-to-day functions until she was old enough to assume her role as queen.

Now, she could no longer use these long-ingrained avoidance tactics as a way of controlling her magic. She couldn't have a proper relationship with her sister, or with her people, if she concealed and refused to feel anything. It had always been a short-term solution to what was ultimately a long-term problem. Her father had told her it was just until she learned to control her magic, but Elsa knew that, to him, control meant more than concealing her magic. It meant denying a part of who she was.

She couldn't control something she didn't understand, and she couldn't understand something if she continued to avoid it. She wasn't _meant_ to break out of the tomblike room. That wasn't the goal. Currently, she couldn't go anywhere near the room without feeling like she was going to suffocate, without going into a state of panic. But the goal wasn't to not panic, it was to allow herself to _feel_ that anxiety and panic, no matter how much she hated it, without letting her magic manifest. At least, that was her theory. If the heat in the room rose in response to her magic, then the room wouldn't get hot if she didn't use her magic.

The true test was to do nothing.

Elsa didn't know if she could do that, but she refused to quit just because it was hard. She could only fail if she stopped trying, and the prize was worth everything to her.

* * *

Anna stood outside the large oak doors that led to the council chambers and squared her shoulders, taking a deep breath. It had been so long since she was last clean, she could smell the floral soap from her bath lingering on her skin. She was scrubbed, rested, and—she hoped—prepared for whatever awaited her on the other side of these doors. She glanced down at the papers clenched between her fingers: her sister's letter and, more importantly, the notes Elsa had made for her. Questions and concerns the council may bring up, and how she should answer them. She sent a silent thank you to her sister and her incredible foresight, taking comfort knowing that even though they were separated, Elsa was still looking out for her, that she was always looking out for her.

This wasn't the first time Anna had stepped in to take over some of the queen's duties. She'd done so a few months prior, when Elsa was on strict bedrest for a week following a severe concussion, though it had taken some emotional blackmail to convince her to rest. But even then, her sister had still been there, guiding Anna through everything they expected her to do or say, telling her how to respond to different requests. If something came up that Elsa hadn't prepared her for, she was still not that far away, ready with an answer to any issue.

This was the first time Anna would address the council with nothing more than her sister's notes to guide her. It was nerve-wracking. She knew the opinions of the councilors didn't really matter, but she couldn't help thinking what they must think of her, especially compared to the graceful poise her sister always displayed. She must come up so short when stacked next to Elsa.

Anna shook her head, banishing the unhelpful thoughts from her head. She lifted her chin, trying to channel as much of her sister's poise and commanding presence as she could, and then she pushed open the council chamber doors.

The council members stood as she entered. Five out of six were present, with only Admiral Mikael Naismith missing, waiting up north for Arendelle's ships to arrive.

Anna crossed the room, hesitating for a moment as she looked at the chair positioned at the head of the table. Elsa's chair. She took a steadying breath, ignoring the feeling of wrongness that echoed through her chest as she sat, the council members following suit.

She arranged her papers on the tabletop before offering them a tight smile. "Thank you for coming on such short notice."

Bishop Toft spoke up first. "If I may, Your Highness. I think I speak for all of us when I say we are very relieved to have you back home, safe and unharmed," he said with a soft smile.

"Thank you," Anna said. She didn't know what else to say, knowing that what she went through didn't compare to what Elsa endured, or what she was still going through. She bit her bottom lip, dropping her gaze to her notes.

"Your Highness, forgive my impertinence."

Anna looked up at the man who had spoken, but it took her a moment to recall the man's name. He was Bjarke Ericson, advisor for Arendelle's trades and guilds. "Yes?"

"I assume there is a reason we are having this meeting with you, and not Her Majesty?"

Anna shifted the papers in front of her, resisting the urge to squeeze her eyes shut. She knew she had to put on a strong front, no matter what she felt. "Unfortunately, there's been a complication."

"Hm," Judge Westberg grunted. He was in his later years, with greying hair and a presence that commanded the respect of whatever room he was in. "Unfortunately, Captain Alarik and Captain Jogeir could only give us a very brief, and rather hurried, report of what transpired on your trip to Valle. Perhaps you would be willing to give us a more detailed account of what happened then, and the complications that emerged."

Anna couldn't recall ever talking to the man before now, but knew he'd had a close relationship with their father. "Of course," she said, nodding. She looked down at her notes, at Elsa's elegant scrawl.

_Be brief, tell them only what they absolutely need to know._

Anna considered her sister's words, knowing what she was trying to do. But Elsa couldn't always protect her, and certainly not from her own mistakes. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "While we were in Valle, a man approached me. His name was Erik."

* * *

Elsa wrapped her hands around herself, fingers twisting in the fabric of her tunic as her chest tightened. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think. A fresh wave of dizziness fell over her, and the buzzing in her head drowned out her thoughts, making it difficult to focus on anything but the small dark space. Ice continued to seep, crackling as it crawled across the walls, as the temperature of the room steadily rose.

She understood what she needed to do, but understanding was a far cry from knowing _how_ to do it. The only way she had ever controlled her magic in the past was by controlling her emotions, but right now she didn't know how to separate the two and wasn't even sure she could. She hadn't been able to before; why would now be any different? If she had some clue or hint about where to start, something she could use as a building block, something more than sink or swim. Because she was sinking fast.

She sagged against the warm wall, sliding all the way to the floor and pulling her knees close to her chest. She needed to calm down enough to think clearly. She needed to breathe. That was the first step; she just needed to breathe.

Elsa bit her lip and dragged a long breath in through her nose. She held it, counting to five, and then blew it out through her mouth. She repeated the process until she could feel the lightheadedness beginning to ease. Thinking clearer now, she remembered there had been times she connected with her magic in a way that was . . . different from the normal connection she usually felt. Often when she used her magic, it felt like a tool she was wielding, like a pen. When it manifested on its own, it felt different, like trying to hold back an ocean tide. But there had been a few times, like when she built Olaf or her ice palace, or when she used her magic at Sioaskard to find the hidden tunnel, that her magic felt different, natural. Like it was an extension of herself. Perhaps if she could connect to her magic like that here, then she could figure out a way to stop her magic from leaking out.

* * *

Anna folded her hands in her lap, resisting the urge to fidget under the heavy silence dominating the council chambers. She wanted to appear strong, but she also didn't want to see the looks of judgement on the faces of the council members, so she kept her eyes on her sister's letters, trying to draw strength from the familiar handwriting.

"So, everything that has transpired," Bjarke Ericson said, breaking the silence, "is largely a product of the Queen's magic?"

Anna narrowed her eyes, the man's sharp tone making her feel uneasy. "I wouldn't say it's a product of her magic."

"But the Sirma would have had no reason to go after the Queen if she didn't have magic?" Bjarke shook his head, turning toward the rest of the council members. "I told you three months ago, when the Queen first revealed her powers, that no good was going to come of it."

Anna recoiled, her mouth falling open. "This isn't her fault," she said. Surely the man couldn't be blaming _Elsa_ for what was happening. "She was born with magic. It's not like she asked for any of this."

"Maybe not, but it was inevitable that this would happen."

"Bjarke, whatever it is you are trying to say, just come out and say it." Judge Westberg leaned forward over the table with his hands clasped in front of him.

"I'm saying," he bit out, irritated that he was having to explain himself, "that it's only been three months since she exposed her magic, and already there are others trying to use that magic to their advantage. If she returns and resumes her duty, what's to keep another country from doing the same? What's to keep them from dragging all of Arendelle into conflict over her magic?"

Anna's eyebrows shot up. " _If_ she returns?"

The Bishop frowned and shook his head. "Surely, you aren't suggesting we leave the Queen in the hands of the Vindarr. I'm sure a smart man such as yourself understands how even the idea of such an act could be viewed." His tone was edged with a warning Anna was sure she had never heard come out of the kindly gentleman's mouth, even when she misbehaved during lessons as a girl.

"Of course, I'm not." Bjarke narrowed his gaze. "I'm merely saying we should consider and plan for _all_ potential outcomes."

Anna couldn't believe what she was hearing, what the man was not so subtly suggesting. The tension in the room was palpable. It was clear the trades councilor was not a fan of Elsa, and even less so of her magic. Was her sister aware of this? If she was, why had man remained on as one of her councilors? If she wasn't aware, then Anna was going to be sure to inform her sister _when_ she returned.

"Perhaps for the moment, our focus would be better served on what we need to do next." The judge turned to Anna. "Your Highness, you said that Admiral Naismith has remained up north? Do you know what his plan is once the ships arrive?"

Anna took a moment to gather herself, to steady her racing heart and bring her attention back to the reason she was here. "We need to locate Hasvik, the Vindarr island. According to Erik—"

"The Sirma responsible for starting all this?" Bjarke interrupted. "Why are we taking advice from our enemy?"

"We're not taking advice from him," Anna replied with forced calmness. "But he knows the area and the Vindarr far better than any of our people and has been willing to provide us with information."

"And we are just going to trust that he will be honest with us?"

"No," Anna said, shaking her head, wondering if the man was this confrontational when dealing with her sister. "Of course not. Admiral Naismith will verify the information he offers before we take action."

Westberg spoke up, interjecting before Bjarke could press further. "What information did Erik offer you?"

Anna nodded. "He told us that the island is a part of an archipelago, surrounded by a fog he believes is created by magic. Which will make it difficult for our people to navigate."

"More magic?" Bjarke spat, shaking his head with disgust.

Anna narrowed her gaze at the man and opened her mouth to say something in return.

Before she could, Gregar Alfson, the advisor on international affairs who had until now remained quiet, spoke up. "Does the Admiral have any idea on how to get through the magic fog once the ships make it north? Or how to extract the Queen once they do?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "Not yet. It'll depend on what the scouts discover." Anna looked down at the papers in front of her. "She was able to send a message. She doesn't think she's in any immediate danger and the Vindarr leader claimed he would release her once the fighting with the Sirma has stopped."

"Once it's stopped? I thought you said—"

"It's stopped," she affirmed. "Our people hold the Sirma camp, Erik is in our custody, and the Sirma leader is in the Vindarr's dungeons. There is no one left to fight."

"Hmm." Gregar leaned back in his chair, tapping a finger against the tabletop. "As he is the leader of his people, I feel it's safe to assume that he is well aware the Sirma are not attacking. If he knows the fighting has stopped and is still holding the Queen prisoner, it's doubtful that he has any plans on letting her go."

Anna looked down at the letters once more. That sinking feeling she had in the pit of her stomach, the feeling that something was going on with Elsa, was reappearing. She wanted to believe what her sister said, that Markkus was going to let her go, but instinct and logic continued to warn her otherwise. She sighed. "I don't think he is going to let her go, either. Elsa stated that she didn't trust him, but that she believed him when he said he would. But something about her letter is . . . off. The words are hers, and I don't think they were coerced. But they still feel off. I can't explain it."

Westberg nodded. "Then we work off the assumption, at least for now, that this man is going to continue to hold our Queen hostage with no option for negotiations." He took a deep breath. "This would be a lot easier had the Admiral returned with you to give a report himself for the military. But perhaps we can talk to Captain Jogeir. With three ships sailing north, and timely communication between here and the north camp not possible, I believe the only thing we can do on the military side is trust the Admiral to do what he does best, while we turn our focus on what we can do here in Arendelle for our people."

"I agree." Anna nodded, then took a deep breath of her own, unsure how they were going to receive her next statement. "As soon as I can make sure everything here is being taken care of, I plan on rejoining the Admiral."

* * *

Elsa sat on the floor, eyes closed, turning her focus inward, following the ice that always lined her veins until she found its source. It was like an artic ball of ice and snow swirling chaotically deep within her chest. Her eyebrows squished together as a purple-blue light erupted, piercing the space behind her closed eyelids.

She cracked her eyes open to see a large domed room that looked as if someone had carved it from ice. The ceiling reached to impossible heights and the walls stretched endlessly in either direction, creating a vast open space that glowed with deep purples and light blues dancing along the icy surface. It was a breathtaking sight, one that oddly felt like coming home.

Elsa unfolded her legs, pulling herself to her feet, attempting to memorize every detail. She took a step forward, when a sudden pressure in her chest stopped her, a painful shove that caused her to stumble backwards. A sharp ache bit into her and the room shifted violently before her eyes, snapping back to the dark stone room in the Vindarr fortress.

Elsa threw out a hand, catching herself against the wall as she pressed her other hand against her chest. She gasped for breath, her vision strobing dangerously as an odd, unnerving feeling overcame her. Like she had seen something she wasn't supposed to, something she wasn't ready for. Her magic tingled uncomfortably beneath her skin, swirling, begging for release to the point it was almost overwhelming. She wanted desperately to give in but knew if she did, the heat in the room would increase so swiftly she was sure to succumb to it and would once again find herself waking up, hot and exhausted, without having succeeded at the task. Elsa bit her lip, fighting against the pressure.

The door to the room suddenly opened, and she lifted a hand, blocking out the sudden brightness.

* * *

The room was quiet for a long moment, before Gregar broke the silence. "Do you think it's wise for you to return north at such a time?" he asked. "The people need you here, need the reassurance of a member of the royal family present. If something were to happen to the Queen, you are all Arendelle has left."

Anna bit her lip. She had known the council would bring this up, and it was one of the few things Elsa hadn't prepped her on. Likely because Elsa herself didn't want Anna to return north to the Sirma encampment; her lack of acknowledgement was as good as withholding permission. It was understandable; were their positions reversed, she wouldn't want Elsa to return either. Not that she would have much of a say in it. "I know you want me to stay here," she said finally. "I know the people would feel better by my presence here in the capitol. But I can't, and I won't, leave my sister there. I cannot remain safe and out of the way while Elsa is in the hands of a potentially dangerous man."

"But safe and out of the way is exactly where you need to be your highness," Bjarke said. "I understand you might feel guilty for the role you played in this, but it is your duty to serve your people over your own personal need for redemption."

"Personal need for—" Anna jerked her head back. "I don't think getting my sister, your _Queen_ , back can be considered a personal need."

"Of course not," he conceded. "But there is no need for you to place yourself in harm's way when there are those far more capable at handling the situation. Your presence up north is not required, but it _is_ needed here, reassuring the people and handling matters of state until the Queen is returned to us."

Anna pressed her lips into a thin line and squared her shoulders. She wanted to yell at the man, but held back, instead trying to take a more tactful, mature route. She took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. "I hear what you're saying, and I understand your concerns. You are correct; I have a duty to the people, and I plan on fulfilling that duty while I am here. But I also have a duty to my sister, and the Queen, to ensure her a safe return home. So, I will stay in Arendelle only long enough to make certain the winter stores are properly distributed, and the people are okay. Then I _will_ return to the northern camp to spearhead the rescue efforts."

* * *

Elsa wrung her hands tightly in front of her, pacing the length of the room while her heart continued to beat painfully within her chest. She'd been in the room two more times since her conversation with Ray and had been partially successful in not using her magic. It still leaked out, raising the temperature, but she had managed to control it enough that the heat didn't reach a point where she passed out. But now, she felt wound up and anxious from the room's confining space.

Then there was the . . . Elsa paused her pacing, screwing up her nose. She didn't know what it had been. A vision? A hallucination? It had felt so _real_. She could still feel the coolness of the ice under her feet, the chilly breeze swirling around the room, carrying with it the salty scent of ocean water. But just as quickly as it had appeared, it disappeared. Painfully ripped away, leaving behind a feeling that she had lost something important to her, something she desperately needed.

She walked over to the window, watching the ocean churn beneath as she tried to organize her thoughts. Since this whole ordeal started, it felt like someone had turned everything upside down. The dreams of the pebbled beach had increased in frequency, had changed, and now this new vision, this frozen cavern. Despite being in the room twice more, she only experienced the vision once, so maybe it truly was just a hallucination brought on by the suffocating panic of the room. Maybe it was simply a fevered dream, resulting from an overabundance of stress with no proper time to reset.

Elsa nodded, pressing a hand to the cool glass of the window. That had to be what it was. There was no other explanation.

Somehow, her last two trips to the room had been both easier and harder than the times before it. She had managed to avoid passing out, avoided raising the temperature much higher than normal, but her magic still leaked out. It hadn't spiraled out of control, though, like it had before when she was in a panic. It was progress; slow, but it was still something, and it filled Elsa with a hope she hadn't felt in a long time, allowed the possibility that maybe this was something within her reach. Maybe this was something she could accomplish if she kept down this path.

Anna had always encouraged her to embrace her magic rather than just trying to keep it under control, and Elsa wondered what her sister would think if she knew she was finally taking steps to do just that. If she'd be proud.

With a sharp jolt, Elsa realized Anna had not yet written her back. An overwhelming need to make sure her sister was okay struck her. She suddenly worried that the army hadn't been able to rescue her, or that something may have happened during the rescue. The small dragon was meant to deliver her letter, then wait for her sister to write a reply, and return here.

She glared down at the cuffs around her wrists. If she could access her magic, she could connect with Rune or the little ice dragon and maybe get a sense from them of what was going on. She had never tried such a thing before but knew she could feel things through the ice and snow she created; logically, there was no reason she couldn't do the same through her creations.

She considered for a moment going to Markkus and explaining the situation, but that meant she would have to admit she had lied from the start, pretending to be someone she wasn't. It meant telling him about Anna and opening her little sister to the potential of being used against her, something Elsa was desperate to avoid. She didn't want to see her sister put in danger, but also couldn't help her if she didn't know what was happening.

She scrubbed her hands over her face with a frustrated groan. First things first—she needed to get her frayed and tattered mind under control so she could think straight.

A knock on the door caused her to jump. Ray poked her head in, offering Elsa a smile before she let herself in. "Morning," she said, a small tray balanced on one hand.

Elsa attempted to return the smile. "Morning."

Ray set the tray on the table in the room. "I heard that you did way better in the room these last two times."

"Only thanks to your help."

Ray lifted a shoulder. "I just pointed out what anyone not stressed and sleep-deprived would have realized."

Elsa let out an amused huff. "I don't suppose that means I'm done with that room?"

Ray placed a hand on her hip and pressed her lips together. "I don't know. Most of the trainees go through it a couple times, even after they figure it out. I'm not sure how different it'll be with you."

"I'm not sure that's comforting," Elsa replied honestly.

The girl winced. "Sorry."

"It's not your fault." Elsa fell silent, her mind twisting between various thoughts of her sister, the strange vision, the changes in the pebbled beach. She faintly remembered something about a blue light, but couldn't make any sense of it.

Ray picked up the coffee from the tray and offered it to her. Elsa gave her an appreciative smile, but her stomach was churning with worry and confusion, and eating or drinking anything was the last thing she wanted to do right now. "Thank you," she said, shaking her head. "But I think I'll pass on breakfast this morning."

"Are you okay? You didn't eat breakfast yesterday, either."

Elsa hadn't realized Ray paid that much attention to her habits. She raised her eyebrows. "I'm fine, just not hungry this morning. Or yesterday, I suppose." She wrapped her arms around herself. "I just have a lot on my mind."

Ray pursed her lips and dropped her gaze to the coffee, looking like she was debating something.

Elsa tilted her head. "What is it?"

"You should at least drink the coffee," Ray said. "So you don't get sick."

Elsa chuckled softly, remembering one of their early conversations. "I'm not addicted to coffee," she assured the girl, "and missing it two days in a row will not make me sick. But I appreciate the concern."

"Not the . . ." Ray took a breath. "I know that. But the medicine, if you miss another dose you could get sick."

Elsa's heart slammed to a halt in her chest. She turned to face Ray fully, her eyebrows scrunching. "What medicine?"

Ray gestured to the coffee. "The medicine the apothecary puts in your coffee every morning."


	29. Black Pawn to E6

Markkus sat back in his chair, resting his chin against his palm. He scrutinized the letter sitting on the desktop in front of him. A letter not meant for him, though the information it contained held no less significance. The moment he found out his prisoner was a queen he knew to expect complications from that alone, complications the letter has now confirmed.

Arendelle held the Sirma encampment, which meant they were far closer to the fortress than he had expected. The tribes stopped fighting just over a week ago, without word from their Queen, it would only be a matter of time before her army takes matters into their own hands. They came all this way for her; it was doubtful they'd give up without a fight. He was confident that the fog surrounding the island would keep them hidden, but he wasn't willing to risk his plans on that single line of defense.

He needed time enough to convince the Queen that staying here, learning to control her powers was more important than returning home. Enough time for her to change her mind set from captive to guest.

The army was an issue but not the largest piece on the board; they moved at the Queen's command, if her can control her, he can control them. The unknown factor in this game was the Queen's sister. The information he had pulled out of Tyr was the girls were close, very close, he considered driving a wedge between them, knowing the more separated Elsa was, the more isolated she felt, the easier she would be to control. But dividing loved ones, especially ones that were close, was a delicate process, one that took time and patience. Like a house of cards, if you pushed too hard you risked bringing the entire thing down and it was unlikely you'd get a second chance.

However, according to the letter, the princess might not be as big a concern as he originally feared. At Elsa's request, the younger sister returned to Arendelle to tend to the country, removing herself from the board. He could use that to his advantage. If the sister was safe and the country taken care of, there would be no reason for the Queen to rush back home.

He considered giving Elsa the letter, letting her see that her sister was okay and returning to Arendelle, but he worried about the other information contained in these words. The Sirma were not only no longer attacking, but their leader's brother, Erik, was willing to seek a permanent cease-fire if not peace. The threat of the Sirma was the only thing currently keeping the Queen content in his care. He couldn't give her the letter until he had a way to ensure she wouldn't immediately demand her release.

He was going to have to alter his strategy.

There were multiple paths he could venture down, but he needed something concrete to ensure his hold over her. Willing or otherwise. He was going to have to strip away any layers of defense that stood between them, leaving her open and her vulnerabilities bare. First was the false layer of protection she believed she had by pretending she was a commoner named Joan. He had hoped she would grow to trust him and willingly reveal the truth, but he could no longer risk waiting. He was going to have to bait her into telling him.

He didn't have enough time to poison her mind against her sister, but perhaps he could poison her mind against herself with the same result. The seeds were already there; all he had to do is water them and watch them grow.

A knock on the door pulled Markkus from his thoughts. "Come in."

The door opened, and Rayna poked her head into the room before entering fully. She crossed to the desk, tugging at her sleeves and dragging her feet, looking every bit like a kid about to get in trouble.

Markkus watched her, his mind already rolling through the things that could make the girl nervous. Every one of them revolved around his prized guest. "What happened?" he asked, not in the mood to beat around the bush.

"I . . ." She dropped her eyes, fixing them on a middle distance. "Joan asked to talk to you."

"About?"

A long pause filled the air, the girl's shoulders curling in on herself. Her words came out in a rush, overlapping each other, "I thought she knew about the medicine from the apothecary, and she missed some and when I mentioned it to her she got upset and now she's refusing to eat anything and I didn't know she didn't know."

While unwanted it wasn't the worst news, the girl could have brought him. "How many doses has she missed?"

Rayna tilted her head as she considered the question. "Two as of this morning."

Markkus tapped his finger against the polished wood surface of his desk; he knew this was a possibility, one of the many things he knew could go wrong. He could use this to his advantage, he'd wait another day. Three missed doses would leave her in just the right frame of mind. "Tell her I am currently engaged, but I will come see her the second I get a chance."

"And until then?" she asked, shifting.

"Continue to take her meals," Markkus told the girl, "if she will eat. Otherwise, leave her be."

"Yes, sir." Rayna turned and left the room, but not before he saw the way her face pinched with worry.

Markkus returned his attention to the letter on the desktop. Perhaps this would give him an opportunity to strengthen his hold over the Queen. It was a delicate situation, but as long as he played his cards with care, this could be exactly what he needed. If he can control her everything else should fall into line.

* * *

"That's it?"

Anna blinked up at the man glaring down at her, and the guard seated at her side.

After discussing the events that had taken place up north, the council members had debated which duties would, in leu of the Queen's presence, require Anna's immediate attention. The conversation then moved on to what the people should be told regarding the Queen's extended absence and Anna's upcoming return north, and how much to tell them.

Many of the councilors spent the meeting alternating between arguing over what to do and trying to convince Anna that she needed to stay in the city where it was safe. She understood their concern but stood her ground. She needed to be up north when they found Elsa; she had an unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach that it was important she was there. No matter how much the councilors begged and pleaded, she refused to budge on the subject. She couldn't.

The meeting had dragged on for several hours, going on so long that Anna couldn't help but thank her lucky stars to have been born second. She couldn't fathom how her sister did this once a week, but now understood why the woman always came out of these meetings looking like she was nursing a nasty headache.

One of the few things the council had agreed upon was that they needed to distribute the food sent from Valle as soon as possible. A small amount would go to individual families, and then the bulk sent out to the farmers who had lost their crops. After the council meeting finally ended, Anna had arranged a smaller meeting with Captain Jogeir and a few others in order to determine what would be the quickest, most efficient way to get the food out to the people. Since the food was currently being stored in the castle's cellar, they decided the easiest option was to distribute it from the courtyard. Considering recent events, Captain Jogeir voiced concerns against bringing such a sizeable amount of people into the castle, but reluctantly admitted that delivering the food would take too long, not to mention the fact they lacked the equipment or staff to do it. In the end, they compromised; the guards would deliver the allotted food to the families living on the outskirts of the city and those who would have the most difficultly in making the trip to the castle. The rest would come to the castle courtyard. Thankfully, Anna hadn't needed to worry about who got what, or how much, as the instructions Elsa left had been very clear.

So far everything had gone smoothly, but while many were grateful for the food, there were those keen on expressing their displeasure at the events that led to them needing the castle to provide food. Anna had done a decent job until now, soothing the ruffled feathers, but felt it was Elsa's gentle presence the people really needed. Even if her sister was still awkward around crowds, she could put the people's mind at ease.

"This isn't going to feed my family."

The man's harsh voice drew Anna back to the present, and she looked up at him. It was one of the woodcutters, Reid. She dropped her gaze to the list Elsa had left, double checking they had given the man the correct amount. "I promise you," she said, "there is enough there to feed your family until more food is available in the markets." He continued to glare at her, until she added, "if you believe there is some mistake, you'll have to address it with the Queen." She winced as she spoke, wishing she could fix the problem herself, but she trusted her sister had been thorough in her calculation of the rations.

Reid huffed, obviously not sharing in Anna's optimism. "And when will she be back?"

Anna swallowed thickly. "Soon," she said with a confidence she wished she felt.

The man's face twisted with a sour look, but he turned away, taking the food with him. Anna's stomach knotted at the painful reminder of everything that was happening up north. She stood abruptly, shoving her chair back. The guard next to her turned toward her with a questioning look.

Anna gave him a tight smile. "I have to take care of something," she said, sliding the papers detailing the rationing toward him. "I'll be back in a moment."

The guard nodded and turned his attention back to the line of people, waving the next man forward. Anna kept her eyes firmly planted on ground as she walked away, not wanting to risk eye contact with anyone else, not wanting to disappoint them. She automatically started toward the castle doors, but stopped halfway there and redirected to the stables, where she knew Kristoff would be.

Kristoff was lounging outside of Sven's stall, no doubt feeding the reindeer from a pouch of carrots. He turned toward the stable entrance like he had sensed her approach and greeted her with an easy grin. "Hey."

Anna immediately felt some of the tension thrumming through her body drain away. Not all of it, but enough that her shoulders relaxed, she returned the smile. Sven snuffled a greeting of his own, and she patted the reindeer's nose.

"I didn't expect to see you for another few hours still," Kristoff said casually as he palmed another carrot for Sven. "That line stretched clear out of the courtyard last time I looked." His voice was _too_ casual, and he said it with a look in his eyes, like Anna was doing a horrible job hiding her stress.

She lifted a shoulder, intending to shrug the comment off, but stopped. There was no point in her pretending everything was okay when they both knew it couldn't be further from the truth. Nothing was okay. She paced a few feet into the stable, then spun on her heel, throwing her arms out wide. "I can't do this, it's ridiculous."

Kristoff cocked his head, brows drawing together but remaining quiet, waiting for Anna to continue.

"Here I am, safe, counting grain while Elsa—" She scrubbed her hands over her face. "She's alone and I don't, I can't help her. And I don't know what to do, and I shouldn't be here."

"Come here," he said, offering his hand. He tugged Anna back to the stable entrance, where he gestured to the line of people that snaked through the courtyard. "You are doing something, Anna. You're making sure that all these people will have food this winter be able to survive through the winter. You're making sure they'll have food to eat, to give their families."

She knew he was right, but there was no keeping back the hot tears stinging the backs of her eyes. "I just want her here, I want her home and safe," Anna said, her voice breaking. "I want..." _I want her to tell me what to do._ But looking at the line, she realized Elsa had done just that. She had given Anna one of the most important tasks she had—to take care of the people of Arendelle. Elsa had trusted her, and she didn't want to let her sister down.

Anna swiped a finger under her eyes, eliminating the evidence that she had given into her exhaustion, her emotion. Kristoff was right, but it didn't stop her from feeling frustrated and powerless.

Kristoff moved his hands to her shoulders, turning her toward him. "What can I do to help?"

Anna shook her head, about to tell him there was nothing when a stray thought crossed her mind, something she had been thinking about ever since Erik told them his story. Maybe there was something they could do from here.

* * *

Elsa wrung her hands together as she paced the room, working to soothe the tremble in her fingers. After Ray had unintentionally let slip the so-called medicine she had been unknowingly taking every morning, she had refused to eat or drink anything brought to her, no matter how the girl tried to assure her that there was nothing extra added to it. Elsa doubted Ray was lying to her, but she couldn't chance it. Not when she didn't even know what they had been drugging her with.

She wanted to speak to Markkus, had all but demanded his immediate presence, but the only answer she received was an ambivalent, "he's busy, but will come by as soon as he can."

That was a day and a half ago.

This morning when she woke, she'd felt hot and restless, like she was coming down with a nasty bug. As the hours slowly ticked by, the feeling worsened, leaving her chest tight, her skin hot and itchy, and her stomach twisting in painful cramps that that came and went, each one more vicious than the last.

As if summoned by her thoughts, Elsa's stomach turned without warning, causing her to halt her pacing. Pressing her forearms against her belly, she braced her shoulder against the bedpost at the foot of her bed. She squeezed her eyes shut and blew a breath through her clenched teeth as she rode out another brutal spasm. After a few minutes, the intense pain eased. She straightened cautiously.

Elsa steadied herself against the bedpost, wishing more than ever that she could use her magic. Her head felt hot and muddled, she was having a hard time concentrating on anything for any length of time, each thought slipping through her fingers like melting ice.

She continued to pace around the room, stopping when she came to the window that overlooked the ocean. Her shoulders relaxed a touch as she gazed out at the water. This was the only spot in the room where Elsa felt like she could breathe. She rested her head against the cool glass and listened to the rain beating against the window, the waves crashing against the cliff face. A welcome breeze slid in through the small opening, cooling her overheated skin. If she closed her eyes, she could almost pretend she was back home.

Almost.

Reluctantly, she couldn't help but wonder if there was something to the medicine they had slipped her, if it had been keeping her from getting sick. But it made little sense—why would they have assumed she was going to get sick? Unless there was something here in Hasvik they worried she'd catch. She heard stories of people traveling to a new place and falling severely ill to some sickness the natives had grown immune to. Perhaps they had something similar here.

A soft knock echoed through the room and Elsa to jump. She turned toward the door faster than her head or shaky body liked and barely caught herself against the wall when the room made a nauseating tilt.

The door cracked open and Ray poked her head in before swinging it open, allowing Markkus to enter the room behind her. He stopped just beyond the threshold, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he gave her a once over.

She drew her shoulders back, standing as tall and straight as she could manage. "What did you do to me?" she asked, before the man spoke. She wanted to sound strong, to _look_ strong, but her voice wavered, and there was a tremor running through her she couldn't seem to stop.

Ray closed the door and stood just inside the room, waiting.

Markkus stepped closer, hands held up as though approaching a wounded predator. "I understand you are feeling confused and angry."

"You've been drugging me."

Markkus pressed his lips in a thin line but didn't deny the accusation.

Elsa's aching stomach dropped. Some small part of her had been hoping it wasn't true, that Ray had misspoken or there was some other explanation. "So, it's true."

"Yes, but it's not what you think."

"You have no idea what I'm thinking."

"As cliché as it may sound, it was for your own good."

"My own good?" Elsa leveled a glare at the man. "How? And if it was, why would you keep it from me?"

Markkus sighed, his expression and posture growing heavy with regret. "I shouldn't have kept it from you. That was an error on my part, and you have my deepest apologies for it."

Elsa wrapped her arms around herself and pressed back against the wall, using it for support as another wave of dizziness rocked through her body. "What is it?" she bit out breathlessly.

"Rayna wasn't lying to you," Markkus said, gesturing to the young girl. Her eyes widened as he unexpectedly pulled her into the conversation. "It is a medicine meant to keep you from getting sick." He pressed a hand against his mouth, looking thoughtful. "We drew this fortress from the cliffs using magic. The fog that surrounds the island, we created and sustain with magic. Magic runs deeply through the air and in the walls here. There have been rare instances of people quite sensitive to magic coming here and falling deathly ill. We aren't sure why, but our apothecaries have been able to create a tonic that helps keep the symptoms at bay while giving the individual a chance for their body to grow accustomed to the magic here."

"And you just assumed I would be one of those people?" she asked, struggling to keep up and make sense of what he was saying.

"No," Markkus said, shaking his head. "Your first night here, when you were in the dungeon, you started showing signs of the illness. You were still unconscious at the time."

"What signs?" Elsa's head swam as she fought to remember waking up in the dungeon, how she had felt, if she had been sick. She had been feeling a lot of things in that short amount of time, not the least of which had been the aftermath from her fight with the Vindarr mages, and the lingering effects of whatever they had used to keep her unconscious.

Markkus's expression softened. "Honestly, I don't know the exact details. One of our healers in charge of taking care of prisoners informed me. I assumed you were willingly working with the Sirma and thought you were my enemy. Which, of course, I later learned was not true. I can tell you that the symptoms usually present as fever, stomach cramps, anxiety, irritation, paranoia, and fatigue." He took a step closer, just past her bed, but still out of reach. Still keeping a respectful distance.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"You had just traded one captor for another," he explained. "If I told you that you were going to get sick and urged you to take an unknown substance, would you have believed me? Would you have taken it?"

Elsa hugged herself tighter, drawing her shoulders in as her chest constricted to the point she felt like she wasn't getting enough air.

"Of course, you wouldn't," Markkus continued, taking another step closer. "After you told me you were born with your abilities, I worried that the difference in nature between your magic and ours could exacerbate the issue. So, I made the decision to have the apothecary put the medicine in your drink every morning so you wouldn't fall ill."

Elsa shook her head, turning his words over in her head. What he was saying made sense. The entire week she'd been here, they'd been giving her the drug, and she hadn't felt any different. Just normal, like herself. It was only when she stopped taking it she fell ill. Her life had been in Markkus's hands since she arrived, and he had not caused her any harm, had not forced her to do anything she didn't want. He had in good faith acted in what he believed was her best interest. He was not the first person to keep a secret attempting to protect someone. Elsa spent thirteen years doing that exact thing to Anna. She'd be a hypocrite to condemn him for something she herself had done. But there was something she still needed to know. The question that had been on the tip of her tongue since she first met the man. "Why do you care so much? You don't even know me."

"Do I really need a reason to want to help you?"

"People rarely offer something for nothing."

A look a sadness crossed Markkus face, something painfully akin to pity. "Is that what they taught you? What you grew up around?"

Elsa didn't answer, didn't know how to answer. Even isolated as she was, the world she grew up in was still full of politics, of people working their own angles and trying to put themselves in the best position to wield the most influence. A dangerous game of chess. She squeezed her eyes shut as the room pitched and rolled, threatening to drive her to her knees.

"You sacrificed yourself for your people," Markkus said, "people you don't even know, whose only connection to you is the fact they live in your kingdom. But for thirteen years you surrendered your freedom to keep them safe, without ever asking for anything in return."

"That's not the same." Her head was buzzing. She pressed her fingertips against her hot eyes, trying to steady the slow roll of her vision. "I'm their Queen."

"You were a child. That burden should have never been yours to bare, regardless of your station."

Elsa dropped head back against the wall. She was too hot, burning up. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think. Her legs were shaking so badly they were barely holding her weight, and her breath hitched as her stomach twisted painfully once more. Unable to support herself any longer, she slid down the wall to the floor, drawing her knees up, her chest heaving.

Markkus moved closer, crouching in front of her. "You deserve to be shown kindness for the sake of kindness. Without strings attached. And as I told you before, for better or for worse, fate has delivered you into my care. Like you, it is my job to protect and help those in my care." He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "I'm sorry they have put you through this. No one should have to endure the things you have. I'm sorry I lied to you about the medicine, and I promise the apothecary will not add it to any of your food or drink from this point out. I will have Rayna bring it in a separate glass with your breakfast, and it will be up to you to decide whether you want to take it. No one will force you." He pulled a small vial from his pocket.

Elsa cracked her eyes open, squinting at the blurry image of the vial, studying the foggy, unremarkable liquid swirling inside. She wanted to deny what he was saying, but she couldn't think. She was hot and tired and wanted to sleep, but her chest was too tight. She felt restless and agitated; overwhelmed and on the verge of tears she refused to let fall. She was desperate for anything that would provide even a fraction of relief. Her breath hitched, her voice coming out a thick whisper as she said, "I don't understand."

"Do you trust me?"

Elsa lifted her watery gaze from the vial to the face of the man in front of her and was surprised at the answer that came without thought. "Yes."

He reached out and took one of her hands in his. He transferred the vial to her palm and wrapped her fingers around it. "Then, for now, you know enough."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Whistles innocently* In my defense . . . uh, I have nothing. But I do promise you that when we get to it, the comfort/cuddling will be equal to the pain and hurt.


	30. Queen's Knight to F3

She woke to warmth on her face, sunlight streaming in through the window. Elsa reflexively lifted a hand to shield her eyes, only to stop mid-action, surprised her head wasn't pounding. She pressed her head back against the pillow and breathed out deeply. She felt. . . better. Tired, despite the fact she'd just woken from a deep, dreamless sleep. She felt sore, a full body, coming out of the other end of a vicious illness sort of ache. But better and ready for a strong cup of coffee.

Elsa scrunched up her face as her thoughts drifted to what she assumed was the previous day, though she was unsure how long she'd been asleep. The day was a blur, her conversation with Markkus hazy at best, but there were a few things she remembered with painful clarity. The most surprising was that she trusted him. She couldn't help it; there was something about the man that seemed to draw her in. Like standing in front of a darkened cave with the promise of treasure buried just out of sight, a tantalizing voice whispering, "come closer. Whatever you seek, you shall find it here."

Unexpectedly, she found herself wanting to know, _needing_ to know what lay just out of sight, what answers she might discover if she just went a little deeper. Elsa felt like she was standing on the precipice of something important. There was a choice looming before her; she could turn away and return to how things were, or she could take a step, let herself fall, and discover what secrets were waiting.

She wanted to take that dive, but something was holding her back. Her sister, and her duty to the people of Arendelle. Elsa needed to know they were okay; she had still received no return word from her sister. There were any number of reasons why Anna might have chosen not to write back; it was possible her sister was angry with her for asking her to return home, or that Anna hadn't been able to write back, or maybe she simply had nothing to say and chose not to respond. Elsa hadn't requested a reply in her letter, though she wished now that she had, even a single sentence to confirm Anna was okay.

A knock on the door pulled Elsa from her thoughts. She turned toward the noise in time to see Ray poking her head in and smiled at the younger girl as she opened the door further, letting herself in. Elsa pressed her hands against the mattress and shifted further up in bed, sore muscles giving a muted cry of protest, causing her to wince.

"Good morning." She settled back against the headboard as Ray made her way over to the bed with a silver tray in her hands.

"Morning." Ray stopped next to the bed, placing the tray on the nightstand. "I know you don't normally eat breakfast, but I figured since you haven't eaten, like, anything in the past two days you might be a bit hungry." The girl hopped up onto her normal spot near the foot of the bed and leaned against the bedpost.

Elsa looked over the tray, the plate of offered food, and found herself surprisingly famished; her stomach made a loud rumble in anticipation that caused her to blush in embarrassment. "I guess I am," she said. "Thank you." She reached for the plate but hesitated when she noticed the other items on the tray, a mug of coffee and a small glass with a foggy white liquid swirling inside. She picked up the glass and studied its contents. She knew it was the medicine they'd been giving her since arriving at the fortress.

She remembered after her conversation with Markkus, she willingly drank the contents of the vial he offered her. Ray had then helped her back into bed, while Markkus promised they would speak again as soon as she was feeling better. Elsa remembered how she had spent the next hour tossing and turning in bed, still feeling uncomfortable in her own skin. After some time, her chest loosened, finally allowing her to breathe, and she felt cooler, eventually slipping into a deep sleep.

Elsa took a deep breath, then down the medicine in one go. She noted a strong nutty taste to the liquid, which explained the odd flavor she'd noticed in her morning coffee. She set the glass aside and reached once more for the plate of food, digging in with as much restraint and grace as her growling stomach could handle. She was roughly halfway through the plate when she realized that Ray, who was usually very chatty in the morning, was quietly watching her with an expression of childlike curiosity. It was an expression she'd seen on Anna's face enough times to cause a pang of longing for her little sister.

Elsa swallowed a mouthful of food and rested the plate on her lap. "Ray, is something wrong?" She wrapped her hand around her coffee cup, taking a deep drink.

Ray tilted her head, then leaned in. "Are you really a Queen?"

Elsa choked on her coffee, hastily setting the cup aside, pressing a hand against her chest. She coughed, trying to clear the liquid from her lungs, and managed a rough "what?" as she continued to clear her throat.

Ray shifted on the bed, picking at an invisible thread on her dress. "I heard you tell Markkus that you were a Queen. That you gave up your freedom for your people."

Elsa blinked rapidly, looking inward as her mind raced over the broken, fuzzy pieces of that conversation. Her mind halted as she found the fragment she was looking for; her stomach twisted painfully as she remembered telling Markkus she was a Queen without realizing it. The words had flowed out unnoticed with ease. Maybe it was for the better; hiding the information no longer served any real purpose.

She sighed and set the plate back on the tray, no longer feeling quite as hungry. She took a deep breath, then released it. "I am. My name isn't Joan, it's Elsa. I am the Queen of Arendelle, a kingdom a few days south of here."

"Why did you pretend to be someone else?" Ray asked. Her tone was neutral, like the deception didn't upset her as much as made her curious.

"I woke up finding myself in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by people I didn't know. I had just spent the better part of two weeks in the hands of violent strangers, using my people and my family to force me to fight their war. I was scared," Elsa told her truthfully. "I was scared that if Markkus or anyone here knew who I was, they would try to exploit it."

Ray nodded, her lips twisting as she took in the information. "Markkus would never do that, you can trust him."

"I hope so." Elsa mumbled, staring down at her hands, one way or another, she would soon find out. She only hoped Ray was correct.

"I've never met a Queen before," she said in a lighter tone. "I wish I were a Queen. Getting to do whatever you want, whenever you want."

Elsa couldn't help but laugh at the innocence in the girl's statement. "I'm afraid it's not as easy as all that."

"Why not?"

"The things I do, the decisions I make, they affect everyone in the kingdom. It's a lot of work and an enormous responsibility." Elsa's smile slipped as she thought about her childhood. The expectations, rules, and etiquette that dictated her every move. "You'd be surprised just how little control you have over your own life."

* * *

Alarik rubbed his hands together, trying to force some warmth back into his numb fingers as he stood alongside Admiral Naismith on a thin strip of beach surrounded by rocky outcroppings. They waited in tense silence, looking out over the water at the three ships anchored in the fjord and the smaller rowboat making its way toward the rocky beach.

The boat slid up against the shore, and within moments the passengers inside began disembarking. Alarik recognized several; three of them were captains, likely each in command of one of the ships anchored in the distance. Another two men and one woman, the ranks on their lapels indicating they were the first mates. The last man to step ashore was older, wearing civilian clothing and looking out of place among the military uniforms surrounding him. While Alarik didn't know who he could be, the Admiral appeared to recognize him immediately, his face breaking into a smile as he approached.

Naismith grasped the other man's forearm and slapped a hand against his shoulder. "Malthe, I never expected to see you out here in the field again."

Malthe smiled tightly. "Mikael, I have to say I never expected to be. But then, a lot of things have happened over the last month I never thought I'd hear." The man took a steadying breath. "Have you had any word from the Queen? Or the people holding her?"

Naismith shook his head. He gestured inland, leading the way back to the encampment. "No, not since the letter she sent her sister. The only thing we know is she doesn't believe she's in any immediate danger. But that was well over a week ago and the Princess felt there was something off with the letter, that the Queen's words felt too compliant."

"Hmm." Malthe shook his head. "Well, if anyone is familiar with the Queen's particular brand of stubbornness, it'd be her sister. After the Queen's collapse in the council chambers, I was sure the Princess was going to have to tie the woman to her bed to ensure she got proper rest."

"Don't remind me." The Admiral rubbed a hand across his forehead. "I'm pretty sure I lost ten years off my life when I saw her go down in that meeting." A ghost of a smile crossed his face as he added, "she gets it from her father, you know."

"Not sure I recall the King ever being quite so stubborn."

Naismith chuckled, "that's because Queen Iduna would never let him get away with it."

Alarik took up the rear of the party as they walked, listening to the two men speaking about the royal family with such familiarity he couldn't help but wonder what it must be like to work so closely with them. He felt he knew Anna like a distant friend, through her many visits to Valle, but he had never even seen the Queen before the events in the stable. Events that seemed to have taken place a lifetime ago. He'd only seen glimpses of what she was like, snapshots that took place over the course of two endless days, but couldn't help but wonder what they were both like in their day-to-day lives. He hoped he'd get the chance to find out.

"Not that I'm not happy to see you, old friend." The Admiral's voice brought Alarik back to the present. "But why are you here?"

Malthe was quiet for a long moment, before finally answering, "I was there when the Queen was brought into this world. I have spent the last twenty-one years caring for her. I'm hoping my trip turns into nothing more than an old man being overly cautious, but if there is a chance . . . the report I heard wasn't promising. If there is to be a battle, then this is where I will be needed most."

Naismith pressed his lips into a thin line and dipped his head in a sharp nod. "Let us hope it doesn't come to that."

"And I couldn't pass up the chance to see the northern fjords," Malthe added, breaking the tension and eliciting a chuckle from his friend. "I hear they're breathtaking this time of year."

* * *

Elsa hesitated outside the closed door; she drew a steadying breath and smoothed the front of her dark-blue tunic. A few moments ago she felt prepared for this meal, this meeting, but now that she was here, she found herself reluctant to enter the room. She felt foolish over the way she had acted the day before. She had been distraught, anxious and feverish. Confused. She had jumped to conclusions, assuming the worst with no evidence. She knew how she must have sounded, how she had presented herself to the man who had been nothing but respectful and kind to her. Accusing him of deceiving her.

She knew there was a lot they had to discuss, but before anything, she owed Markkus an apology. Elsa lifted her chin and squared her shoulders as she raised a hand to knock on the door. It opened immediately, and Markkus stepped to the side as he gestured for her to enter.

Elsa resisted the urge to wring her hands as she crossed the threshold. The two guards who had accompanied her took up posts outside the room, and Markkus closed the door firmly behind her.

"I hope you're feeling better," he said as he walked to the table positioned in front of the fireplace, the same table where they had shared a meal when they first met.

"I am, thank you." Elsa took a deep breath, lifting her gaze to meet Markkus's as she plunged right in. "I'm sorry for the way I acted, and for assuming the worst when you have been nothing but kind."

Markkus turned back, his brows drawn together. "There's no need to apologize," he said. "If I found out someone had been putting something in my drink without telling me, I have no doubt I would have reacted much the same." A relaxed smile crossed his face; he gestured for her to take a seat at the table. "In fact, I'm the one who should apologize to you. I should have never kept that information from you."

Elsa sat opposite Markkus, her gaze gliding over the array of food set out on the table. It was a much smaller affair than her first visit, but by no means a meager offering.

"Although," Markkus continued as he took his own seat. "I suppose I wasn't the only one withholding information."

It took a moment for his meaning to settle, and then Elsa's cheeks burned hotly as she remembered what she had so easily let slip the day prior. She dropped her gaze to her hands, unsure of what to say. She knew that by withholding the information, she had potentially put Markkus and his people at risk. "No," she said after a long beat of silence. "I suppose not."

"So, if you're not Joan of an unimportant village. . ."

She took a deep breath, lifting her chin as she answered. "My name is Elsa, I am the Queen of Arendelle. The kingdom south of here."

Markkus leaned back in his chair, and Elsa fought the urge to fidget under his curious gaze. She felt like she was being weighed and judged, like he was trying to decide if she was still worth the trouble of everything they had discussed to this point.

After another moment of thick silence, he dipped his chin. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Queen Elsa."

Elsa's lips twisted into a frown. "You're not angry?"

Markkus chuckled. "It's not something I was expecting to hear, but it's not the most surprising news I've had. And it explains a lot."

"It does?"

He nodded, reaching forward to fill his plate from the dishes at the center of the table. "You don't exactly make a believable commoner."

Elsa opened her mouth, then shut it, tilting her head as she considered his words. "I'm not sure how to take that."

"It's not an insult, Your Majesty." Markkus smiled. "The way you talk and hold yourself, you displayed a calm grace despite your circumstances. Originally, I thought it came from what you have endured because of your powers. But there was also a quiet, commanding presence, I saw in you from the moment we met. That was the real giveaway."

Elsa's brow furrowed tightly. "Did you know?"

"That you were a Queen?" He shook his head. "No. That you weren't a commoner, yes."

Elsa reached forward and wrapped her fingers around the cup of water next to her plate. She supposed there were some things that were so ingrained into her; they were impossible to hide. Carrying herself with the grace and composure expected of a monarch had been one of those things. She took a sip of her water, then set the glass back down. "I'm sorry for not telling you sooner."

Markkus rested his forearms of the edge of the table and peered at her thoughtfully. "Why did you hide it? Others would have used their position to gain their freedom through threat or bribery. Instead, you chose not to use it to your advantage, pretending to be no one of any importance."

"I wanted to protect my people. I didn't know you, your intentions, or what you were willing to do to get what you wanted. I won't allow my people to suffer in a power struggle over my magic." She squared her shoulders. "I am sorry for any risk my deception may have caused your people, but I'm not sorry for trying to protect mine."

Markkus rubbed a finger across his chin. "Speaking of your people, I have some good news for you."

Elsa's chest loosened a bit, relieved that he was moving the conversation onward to a new topic. Belatedly, she perked up as she realized what he had said. "Good news?"

He nodded. "It would seem your army has taken the Sirma's encampment and has brought the fighting to a stop."

"What?" Elsa's heart jumped.

"What's more, the Sirma leader's younger brother is willing to negotiate peace." Markkus took a deep drink from his mug. "It's why I could not come to you the other day when you asked for me. I was meeting with the council as we tried to decide how to proceed."

She nodded her head mutely, her mind racing through the implications of what this meant. The first and most important thing was, if Arendelle held the camp, Anna was safe. Elsa had told Alarik to make sure they took as many of the Sirma alive and uninjured as possible, but she knew her men. She understood the depths of their loyalty, especially when it came to her little sister. If something had happened to Anna before or during the fighting, it was doubtful they would merely hold the camp.

Elsa felt the tension slide out of her shoulders. She was still worried, wanting some sort of confirmation from her sister, but at least now she could be sure the younger girl was alright. And if the Vindarr and Sirma were no longer fighting . . . she looked up across the table to Markkus with wide, hopeful eyes.

"There is still some debate on how we should move forward. As a ruler, I'm sure you can see the problem we are facing."

Elsa paused to consider the situation, and it took her longer than she liked to find the problem. "Tyr," she said finally. "He's the leader of the Sirma. If Erik signs a treaty and you let Tyr go, he may not uphold the treaty, claiming Erik didn't have the authority to agree to it in the first place."

"Putting us back at square one," Markkus said with a tight nod. "We have no desire to keep the man in our dungeons for the rest of his life, but given his. . . personality, it is unlikely he'd agree to a peace."

"No," Elsa confirmed. "He was willing to start a war with a stronger army. It's doubtful he'd just give up now." She tapped a finger against her leg. "You'd need the Sirma as a whole to accept Erik's authority over Tyr's."

"Wherein lies our first obstacle, but that is not a problem for you to worry about." Markkus offered her a smile. "Once we get this mess figured out, you will be free to return home."

Elsa's gaze snapped up to meet his, then slipped back down to the table. Her vision blurred. _Home_. Her stomach twisted, and she was surprised to feel conflicted over the thought of returning to Arendelle.

"Until then, if you would like, we can discuss moving forward with your training."

Elsa shoved the confusing feelings aside, knowing they were something she could sort out later. She returned her focus to the man sitting across from her and slowly nodded. "I would like that."

"Good," Markkus said. "I have some ideas on the next step, but first, I need to know more about your magic."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had something to say, but now I can't remember what it is and now you must all suffer the unknown with me.


	31. Black Pawn to F5

Elsa blew out a sharp breath, holding her arms away from her body as she tilted her head, listening, trying to compensate for her inability to see. She held her breath, straining to hear, to sense any movement or motion around her.

There.

She felt his feet shift against the ice, behind her and to the left. She froze, muscles tensing, magic pooling in her fingertips.

Only hours ago, Elsa had followed the guards down the long winding hallways of the fortress, her mind wandering back to the day before, the conversation that had stretched on for hours. She and Markkus spent the evening discussing magic, not just her own, but the Vindarr's as well. They talked about what was similar, and what set them apart. Of course, the biggest difference was that Elsa was born with her magic, while the Vindarr channeled theirs through a crystal. Something Markkus was already aware of as they discussed what that meant for Elsa and how it would affect the next step of her training.

It took her by surprise when, halfway through the conversation, Elsa realized she was enjoying herself. She couldn't remember a time when she could discuss her magic openly, without a sense of fear lacing the air. It wasn't that her parents never wanted to talk about her magic, but the conversations with her father generally revolved around the need to suppress her magic; how well she could pretend it didn't exist. Her mother had always been more accepting, but as Elsa grew older and her magic stronger, there was no denying the fear that she saw growing in her mother's eyes.

One late night, when she was returning some books to the castle's library, eager to find new ones to devour, her ears had perked to the sound of her parents talking in hush tones. They were discussing her magic, using phrases like, _keep her calm; keep her quiet; maybe she can control it_. Elsa knew they were only trying to figure out how to help her, but the words had made her feel more like a dangerous animal they were struggling to control than their daughter.

She never brought the conversation up to them—she never had the chance, as the following week they boarded a ship to an unknown destination, leaving her with more questions, a fifteen-year-old sister she no longer knew, and a kingdom that knew nothing about her.

The years that yawned between her parents going missing and her coronation were a desperate struggle, one Elsa almost lost on more than one occasion. For ten years her parents had been a primary support, and just like that they were gone. A precious few even knew she had magic, and only two of them ever had regular contact with her. She felt lost, adrift at sea without even a sunstone to help guide her way. She moved numbly through the day, trying to figure things out as she went, handling one issue after another.

Anna was everything to her, a life raft in the middle of a storm, but even with her sister's support and unconditional love, Elsa still felt lost. She knew her sister would do anything to help her, but it was difficult for her to confide in Anna about the reservations she harbored about her magic, or the growing power and her struggle to control it each day. Anna was biased at best, an eternal optimist, and while Elsa wouldn't change that for the world, her sister would never understand the fear that had been her constant companion for so long. The fear she would likely harbor forever, somewhere in the back of her mind. Anna would never understand what it was like to be terrified of yourself, of what you could do, what it was like to watch as that same fear grew each day in the eyes of your own parents.

Elsa was okay with that; she had long ago resigned herself to the idea that her magic was a struggle she would have to deal with on her own. As long as she had her sister by her side, it would be enough.

At least it _was_ enough. Then, in the most unexpected place, Elsa found someone who not only understood what it meant to have magic, to feel the power thrumming under your skin begging for release, but who also knew the destruction it could cause. Suddenly, she was no longer alone in a world without magic or understanding, but surrounded by it, by people who use it every day. It was as normal to them as wielding a hammer or sword. Elsa hadn't realized how much she needed that sense of normalcy until she sat at its center and breathed it in. She allowed it to swallow her whole, knowing that, at some point, she would have to leave it behind and return home. But for now, for this moment, she allowed the intoxication of it to sweep her away. She could deal with the fallout later.

She was eager to learn everything this unexpected companion had to teach her about magic, about using it, controlling it. They had spent hours the night before discussing just that, and this morning the guards had led her into a massive courtyard that jutted out high above the churning sea. The wind whipped around the area, carrying the refreshing scent of ocean water and the promise of an impending storm.

Markkus had been standing in the center of the courtyard with a wide smile on his face, looking like the cat that swallowed the canary. Elsa's stomach had flipped, though she couldn't be sure whether it was excitement or worry. Considering what she had gone through in the first part of her training, she was leaning more toward worry.

The guards stayed by the doorway as Elsa joined Markkus. She offered him a smile. "I assume I have you to thank for the new clothing?" she had asked, gesturing to the deep red cotton shirt and black vest she was wearing in place of her long tunic. Ray had presented her with the clothing that morning, along with a pair of black leggings, and told Elsa she would need it for the day's training.

Markkus dipped his chin. "For this next bit of training, I thought something that allowed more freedom of movement would be more appropriate."

"Not to sound ungrateful," Elsa said, folding her hands in front of her, "but no shoes?"

The corner of Markkus's lips curled in a smile. "I just assumed people from Arendelle didn't wear any."

Elsa narrowed her eyes at the man, pressing her lips into a thin line.

Markkus chuckled. "You'll do better without them in this next part." He held out his hand.

Elsa lifted her hands, turning the underside of her cuffs to him. Without a word, Markkus deactivated the cuffs, then tucked the pendant back into his shirt. "And the next part is?" she asked, flexing her fingers, feeling the thrum of magic pulsing through her veins.

"Because magic isn't natural to our mages, one of the things they have to learn is how to connect with it in a way that it becomes natural to them. Now, your magic is natural to you, but due to years of suppressing it, it has become something you fight against rather than something you fight with."

"Okay." Elsa cupped her elbow and tapped a finger against her chin. "But what does that have to do with me being barefoot?"

"I have found that a physical connection to your element can help foster a more intuitive connection."

"Makes sense . . . I think." She dropped her arm, cupping her opposite elbow. "What do you want me to do?"

A wide grin stretched across his face.

Now, Elsa tensed, her magic pooling in her fingers as she felt the older man shifting his feet across the frost that covered the courtyard. His plan had been simple enough, in theory. Markkus would use his magic, which she had learned was lightning based, to shoot minor bolts in her direction. All she had to do was dodge or block them. It had sounded easy enough, until he threw a blindfold into the mix, forcing her to rely solely on what she could feel through her magic and block the lightning before it struck her.

She had sensed things through her magic before, but only once had it been intentional. What had seemed simple in theory was proving far more difficult in practice. Elsa had started by laying a sheet of frost across the courtyard, which allowed her to feel Markkus's heavy footsteps on the ground. But that only gave her an idea of where he was standing, not when he was casting magic, nor how fast it was coming.

Elsa had to quickly adapted her strategy, throwing a flurry of snowflakes into the surrounding air, leaving them suspended there. She felt the jolts of electricity cutting through the delicate crystals; it was a peculiar feeling, something she wasn't used to. Each time, it took her a moment to identify the sensation before she could try to defend herself, and each time, she was too slow.

She yelped as a sharp pain cut suddenly across her hip.

"You need to focus," called Markkus's voice from her left.

Elsa gritted her teeth and blew out a frustrated breath. At this rate, there wouldn't be a spot on her body that wasn't red.

"You're still overthinking it. Stop fighting against your instincts."

She couldn't help but wonder if she could get away with throwing a brick of ice at the man. He was right, of course, but that didn't stop her from wanting to pitch something at him every time he told her to focus and stop overthinking things. She was fairly certain those two things were mutually exclusive.

A jolt sliced across the ice on the ground and Elsa threw out her hand to block it but was once more too slow. The shock of lightning slammed into the bottoms of her feet causing her to jump and let out a string of words Gerda would be horrified to hear come from her mouth.

"Okay." Markkus said with a soft chuckle in his voice. "I think we are done for today."

Elsa frowned and pulled off the blindfold. "I want to keep going," she protested. She couldn't help but feel like she had failed.

Markkus walked toward her. "It's been a few hours, and while you may not have been able to block my attacks, the day was not a total loss. To be honest, I didn't expect you to be able to do that on the first day."

Elsa's frown deepened. Somehow his words didn't make her feel better.

"The idea was to strengthen your connection to your magic, and today you learned how to tap into that connection, if we keep practicing, eventually that connection will become more and more natural, until you don't even have to think about it."

"I guess." Elsa said, her shoulders slumping even as she tried to take encouragement from his words.

Markkus dropped a hand to her shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. "You remind me of a wolf pup I once raised. Stubborn little thing, unwilling to give up no matter how hard the task."

Elsa took a deep breath and offered the man a smile, determined to do better next time.

He gave her one last squeeze then dropped his hand, looking across the courtyard to where one of the guards was waving him over. "Besides, little Ylva, I have something that might cheer you up."

Elsa perked up, her gaze bouncing from Markkus to the guard as he approached them with a rolled parchment. The man handed it off to Markkus before retreating to his position by the door.

Markkus turned back to Elsa. "I don't suppose you have a sister named Anna?"

Her eyes widened and she felt her heart thump painfully against her chest. "Why?"

Markkus held up the rolled parchment. "One of my guards brought this to me a few days ago. I wasn't sure who it belonged to, as the letter was addressed to an Elsa, and until yesterday I was under the impression your name was Joan."

Elsa's cheeks burned, but the embarrassment was quickly washed away as she realized what exactly Markkus had in his hand.

"I had forgotten about it until long after you retired for the night yesterday." He held the letter out to her. "I believe this is meant for you. Don't worry, I didn't read it. At least, no more than I needed to."

Elsa's hand shook as she took the letter, wrapping her fingers around the parchment. Anna had written back to her. That meant she was okay. Her shoulders now sagged for an entirely different reason than the day's failures, as relief flooded through her body. She excited and eager to see what her sister had written, to feel that connection to Anna. "Thank you," she told Markkus.

"No need to thank me," he said, waving his hand. "I just wish I had known earlier it was meant for you. I feel I could have saved you some worry."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had two more scenes that was supposed to be in this chapter, but instead of writing them I rearranged my room, twice. Also discovered I have an inordinate amount of Frozen stuff. I may have a problem. I also need to buy more. I want it all. 
> 
> I was also wondering what most of your opinions were on the second Frozen movie, I want to take this story up to and past that point but haven't decided what I want to do in regards to the Frozen II plot. Originally I had issues with Elsa abdicating the throne. Though, I really enjoy the dynamic between the two sisters in Simplesnowflake's story, "The Next Unknown". So I'm not sure. Let me know your thoughts! 
> 
> I know it's short but hopefully you enjoy the chapter, don't forget to tip your favorite Disney figure on the way out. 


	32. Castling

_My dearest, most favoritest sister,_

_I'm on my way back to Arendelle as per her Majesty's request, but you should know that I'm going to move something in your room when I get there. You should also know that being held captive and still trying to work is not a normal thing. You have a problem. Perhaps we should talk to Malthe about it._

_And before you freak out, I'm okay. I promise. Admiral Naismith was successful in taking the Sirma encampment, and Erik is in our custody. You'll be relieved to know the fighting has stopped and Erik said he is willing to negotiate a permanent cease-fire with the Vindarr. Perhaps even peace._

_So, if this Markkus is telling the truth, you should be allowed to leave soon, if not by the time you get this letter. I'm not comfortable with them keeping you there. Having your magic bound and not being allowed to leave you room still sounds an awful lot like being held prisoner. But if you believe he is telling the truth, then I trust you._

_I will return home and make sure the food is distributed according to what I have no doubt are your painfully thorough notes, and the council will be updated as per the equally thorough notes you sent along with your letter. Seriously, you have a problem._

_I'm afraid at this time, I cannot promise I won't have a moment of clumsiness and spill tea onto the very nice cushion of your chair._

_All the action here appears to be winding down, and I know you said you are okay, but I am still worried about you. It feels like we've barely had any time together, and now this. It's not right, and I desperately wish you were here with me. Captain Jogeir is preparing everyone to leave tomorrow morning. He and the Admiral feel there is a storm brewing, and they are determined to stay ahead of it. I am hopeful we will all arrive safely in Arendelle, without incident._

_Please take care of yourself. I can only tolerate the council for so long and I would hate for the meddling of your possessions to be in vain._

_Come home soon._

_All my love,_

_Snowbug_

Elsa sat on her bed, her legs crossed, and read the letter over and over with an easy smile on her face. The letters were loopy and somewhat sloppy, but clear enough that Elsa could read every word without issue. Her sister's words, laced with thinly veiled frustration and that innate, passionate stubbornness that she loved.

Anna was okay.

The relief that fell over Elsa was dizziness, a weight lifted from her shoulders, her chest, her soul that she hadn't even realized was dragging on her so heavily. Even though Markkus has told her the fighting between the Sirma and Vindarr had ended, she hadn't known for sure that Anna was okay until now. That knowledge also solidified her desire to continue training with Markkus. The kingdom and her people were in good hands, capable hands. Anna was safe. Elsa could do this.

She leaned back against the headboard and sighed, feeling like for the first time in a long time she could actually breathe. She took a moment to soak up the sense of calm as it settled in her chest, and then lowered her head and read over her sister's words once more, paying specific attention to the last paragraph.

Anna may not have held back her frustration with her older sister, or her concern over their separation, but it was obvious that she hadn't felt comfortable speaking plainly about the trouble Captain Jogeir and Admiral Naismith felt was coming. It also meant that her sister was worried someone else was going to read the letter before it made its way to Elsa, someone with less than honorable intentions.

Elsa bit her lip. It was also obvious to her that the Captain and Admiral were making a plan in case Markkus didn't release her as promised. She was sure such a plan wasn't needed—Markkus already told her that he would release her soon as they could create a peace treaty with the Sirma—but it made her feel better, safer, that her people wouldn't give up on her so soon. Considering all the trouble she had put them through with her coronation, and now this, it felt nice to have that safety net now.

* * *

Anna slumped in her chair, folded her arms on the table in front of her, then dropped her head against them. The past few days had moved by at an agonizingly slow pace as she tried to fulfill the duties her sister had entrusted to her. She had updated the council, distributed the food, held court, and soothed the worries and troubles of the people as well as she could. She'd even managed to solve a few problems, and yet right now she felt as worthless as the piles of books spread across the table in front of her.

She spent the days playing the good sister, and her evenings joining Kristoff as they combed through the castle's library, looking for any information they could dig up on the Vindarr or the lands to the north. Anna found it hard to believe that an entire nation of people could be living within a few days' travel without any record of them anywhere. The closest thing she found was an order to build and staff Sioaskard Fortress, to monitor the northern border and protect from "Northern Raiders." An order signed by her great grandfather.

There were more books in the castle's library than she could count, and they were all proving to be frustratingly useless. Tomorrow she, Kristoff, and Captain Jogeir would return to the Northern encampment, and she desperately wanted to bring something back with her, something that could help them, but there was nothing. She could do nothing to help Elsa's situation, which she could only trust wasn't a dangerous one. Anna trusted her sister's judgment, but she also trusted the cautious voice screaming from the back of her mind that something was terribly wrong.

"Maybe we should start at 'B' for beginning!"

Head down and eyes closed, Anna heard Olaf's exclamation from the other side of the room, followed by Kristoff answering with a noncommittal noise. Olaf had spent the day helping Kristoff pour through the books and, unlike her, he didn't seem like he would run out of steam or optimism any time soon.

"Just a little bit further—"

She listened as the snowman moved around, as a table shifted.

"Whoops!"

There was a click, then a grinding noise, like gears moving against each other. Anna's head shot up just in time to see a cloud of dust filling the room, blocking her view of Olaf and Kristoff. She frowned, coughed a bit. "Kristoff?"

When the dust settled, Anna could see that Olaf was standing on the rearing leg of a horse statue, lowered like a lever. Just behind the statue, where a bookcase had once stood was now an opening, a doorway. A secret doorway. Anna jumped from her chair and rushed across the room, stopping just shy of the entranceway.

Olaf jumped down off the horse and peeked his head inside the dark room. "You don't see that every day."

"What is it?" Kristoff stepped closer, squinting through the darkness as he tried to get a better look.

Anna shook her head. "I have no idea." She brushed past Kristoff, plunging headlong into the room and immediately slamming her shins into something hard and unyielding. She cursed under her breath and bent to rub at her aching shin. Maybe walking blindly into a dark room wasn't the best idea. She turned back toward the entrance to find Kristoff already holding a candle out for her. She smiled gratefully as she took it and turned back to the secret room.

Anna held the candle high as she stepped forward, the light revealing a windowless room with vaulted ceilings and shelves carved from the flagstone. The walls were plain, smooth rock with tiny crystals embedded, that sparkled as the candlelight danced across them.

Her eyes widened as she tried to take in everything in the room. The shelves were littered with various objects—scales, bottles, and glass beakers filled with countless plants. Beyond the collection of wondrous items was the sheer number of books. Tomes of all sizes, colors, and varieties filled the shelves, reaching all the way to the ceiling. Anna's pulse quickened and a second wind washed over her. Her exhaustion and frustration were forgotten, replaced by excitement and optimism. Maybe, just maybe, there would be something here that could help Elsa.

She was facing the books, trying to figure out where to even begin, when something caught her eye. A table was set up in the center of the room, with chairs framing it. There was nothing spectacular about the furniture—it was the deep burgundy cloth draped over the back of one of the chairs that had drawn Anna's attention. There was something strikingly familiar about it.

Anna crossed the room, her candle shedding flickering light onto the item. She stumbled as she realized what the cloth was.

It was her mother's scarf. Left hanging over the back of a chair like she had stepped away for only a moment.

Anna's chest tightened as a sudden deluge of thoughts clashed in her head. The one that stood out was the realization that her mother had been here, in this secret, hidden room. She knew about it.

Despite her excitement at what possibilities the room might hold, she felt a heaviness in her chest from the thought of such a room. Another secret, one of her mother's. It seemed her family had a never-ending supply of secrets.

* * *

After a few sessions, Elsa was feeling more comfortable in the darkness. She had become more in tune with her other senses, could smell the crashing sea below the courtyard, taste the salt on her lips, and hear the soft whistle of the wind as it twisted across the rock face. But she was also becoming more in tune with her magic. She could feel it, the icy burn coursing through her veins, except this time it was different, stronger, thrumming beneath her skin.

She flexed her fingers as she followed the faint movement of Markkus's steps against the ice covering the smooth stone all around her. Elsa felt the now-familiar jolt of electricity slicing through the snowflakes suspended in the air, racing across the courtyard from a point behind her. In a single motion, she twisted and threw out her hand, a blast of ice colliding with the bolt of electricity, canceling each other out with a _crack_ that rocked the air.

Elsa was getting better, faster. She tracked the man's movements through her magic, followed the stream of lightning as it barreled across the space between them. She still missed more bolts than she blocked, just a fraction too slow, and was covered in angry welts and minor burns. But she was learning, dipping further into her magic that she ever had, with every step she took slowly moving toward something she had wanted so desperately, for so long. Something that she was starting to believe was possible.

A sharp lance of pain slammed against Elsa's shoulder, demanding her full attention. She gritted her teeth, pressing a cold hand over the hot mark.

"I think we are done for today."

Elsa frowned but didn't argue, knowing there was no point. They had been practicing all afternoon and were quickly losing daylight. She pulled the blindfold off as Markkus crossed the courtyard toward her.

"Your mind is wandering," he said.

Elsa's ears burned as she remembered all the times her tutors would scold her for the same thing, but there was less disappointment in his voice than her teachers. Markkus instead spoke like he was merely making an observation. She twisted the blind fold in her hands, opting to return the observation with honesty. "I'm sorry, there's just a lot on my mind."

"Is it something from your sister's letter?" Markkus gestured toward the side of the courtyard that overlooked the sea.

Elsa followed him to the low stone wall and leaned against it. She took a deep breath, enjoying the comforting scent of ocean air in a waning day. It smelled like home. She let the breath out slowly, collecting her thoughts before turning to take a seat on the wall, putting her back to the setting sun. "No," she answered. "All things considered, she seemed okay. Worried, but okay. And I know Arendelle is safe in her hands."

"But?" Markkus prompted softly.

Elsa folded her legs in front of her and stared down at her hands. "Anna is safe. Arendelle is okay. For the first time since I was little, I feel like I'm not constantly fighting against my magic. Like control—real control—is something I can achieve. But I still . . ." She rubbed the tips of her fingers together, watching the frost coat them in icy rosemaling patterns as she tried to find the words for what she was feeling.

"Feel out of place?" Markkus offered softly.

Elsa glanced up at him, scrunching her nose as she dropped her gaze back to her hands. She considered his words, knowing there was some truth there, but also more. She felt less out of place here, on the frozen island of Hasvik, than she was used to, and that in itself was a problem. She couldn't stay here; she had to go home. She wanted to see her sister, and she had responsibilities she couldn't walk away from.

"Tell me about your kingdom," Markkus said, interrupting her thoughts.

Elsa's brow wrinkled at the unexpected request. She pressed her lips together, tilted her head. "It's peaceful," she said. "A small kingdom that trades goods all over the world, with beautiful mountain ranges and large forests. Arendelle, where I live, sits in Arenfjord, protected by large cliffs and an endless sea. Most of the tradeable goods for the kingdom come through Arendelle's docks, so it's rather busy despite its size. People of all sorts come through the town."

"You speak of it fondly."

She smiled. "It's home."

"It's where you belong?"

Taken aback, Elsa stammered, "o-of course." The response was thin, less confident than she would have wanted. She shook her head. "I was born there. I spent my entire life learning and training to be their Queen. Arendelle is where I belong." Her words were steadier this time, though she wasn't so sure which of them she was trying to convince.

Markkus nodded. "The Queen of a small, peaceful, maritime kingdom." He cocked his head, narrowing his gaze as he stared intently. "Do you really think that is where you belong?"

Elsa blinked. "Where else is there?"

"With the power you have? Anywhere," he said. "I have travelled to many different lands and studied the magic of countless cultures but have never come across anyone who can do what you can. A person with your magic, your power? You weren't born to be soft and quiet, sitting on the throne of a sleepy little kingdom. Someone like you was born to make the world shatter and shake at their fingertips."

Elsa frowned, wrapping her arms around herself as she tore her gaze away from the intense stare of older man. "I don't want to make the world do anything," she said. "I just want to be able to live with my sister and not have to worry about hurting anyone."

"But you have the potential to do so much more," he protested. "You would waste the gift you were given by living your life in peaceful obscurity."

"I didn't ask for this magic. It's not a gift, and if I could get rid of it I would. The only thing it has ever done is hurt the people around me."

Markkus sighed and turned away from her. "You want freedom, but you will never find it hiding in your castle pretending that your magic is less than what it is. Than what it is meant to be. A wolf is a wolf, even in a cage, even dressed in silk."

Elsa swallowed thickly, her fingers twisting in the material of her shirt. She wanted Markkus to be wrong, to believe she was meant for nothing more than what she had been taught her whole life. But she couldn't ignore the pull of her magic, the alluring song that called to her in her dreams. The question that hung over her head every day.

_Why was I born with magic?_

"I have made arrangements for you to be escorted home the day after tomorrow."

Elsa's gaze snapped back to the man's face. Her stomach twisted at his words. "What?"

"I'm a man of my word," Markkus said. "I promised to release you once the fighting was done. We haven't started to pursue a treaty with the Sirma yet, but I'm no longer worried about them trying to use you to fight their war. And I did promise to see you escorted home." He turned away from her and started to walk away but stopped. "You may not appreciate the gift you have been given," he said, turned back to face her. "I understand the pain it has caused you. But if you want to continue to learn how to use it properly, and perhaps find purpose along the way, you are more than welcome to stay here in Hasvik."

Elsa opened her mouth but didn't know what to say. She opted for a small nod, a curt "thank you." She stayed seated on the courtyard wall and watched Markkus walk away until he disappeared into the fortress. Suddenly, she felt torn with herself. She'd been so focused on returning home to Arendelle, and now she was entertaining the possibility of staying on Hasvik, thinking about what the future may hold if she did.

If she stayed here, she could learn to use and control her magic in a way she never thought possible. But she knew she couldn't; Arendelle needed her. She had a duty to her people. But the oath Elsa had sworn was to do what was best for Arendelle. Maybe _this_ was best for Arendelle.

The kingdom needed a Queen who was in control of her powers, not someone who was barely hanging on, who struggled more and more every day to control the growing power threatening to break out with every emotional hiccup. Maybe Markkus was right; maybe this is where Elsa belonged. Not permanently, but perhaps temporarily. Just for a few more weeks.

Arendelle would be fine without her; it had Anna and the council. She would have to figure out what to tell the people, how much of the truth she was willing to share. But maybe it would ease some of the tensions if they knew she was taking extra steps to learn how to use her magic properly.

Then again, staying in Hasvik could escalate the tensions with other countries that were already wary about Elsa's magic. If they knew she was being trained, they might feel a need to take preventative action. It might as good as confirm that she _did_ want to use her magic against other countries. She wouldn't even have to make a move against another kingdom. They wouldn't want to wait, wouldn't want to chance it. She'd be putting Arendelle in danger.

But she was already doing that, wasn't she? By not having perfect control over her power? By simply existing?

Elsa leaned forward, drawing her knees up and resting her head in her hands. Her stomach churned painfully, and she felt more torn than she ever had. It was an impossible choice she was facing, and it felt like no matter what she did, someone was going to get hurt. What Arendelle really needed was a normal Queen. Someone whose very existence didn't put them at risk of conflict with other kingdoms. Someone who was comfortable around other people, who knew how to talk to them, how to comfort and reassure them.

Arendelle would be better off without her, with Anna as their Queen. But was that really a burden that she could lie at her sister's feet?

* * *

Markkus sat in his chair with his chin braced in his palm, his narrowed gaze pointed at the fire cracking in the hearth. He was thinking back on the conversation he'd had with Elsa just a few hours ago, and all that it meant. Everything it would mean moving forward from this moment.

A creaking sound filled the room as the door opened and someone walked into the room. He knew without looking who it was; there was only one person who would dare to enter without knocking. Markkus shifted his gaze anyway, studying the young man as he approached the desk, the whites of his eyes glowing brightly against his dark skin.

"You don't seem very happy." His apothecary's accent was thick and clipped, a lingering trait from the homeland the man had never cared to drop. He lowered himself into the chair across from Markkus and reclined casually, resting his elbows on the armrests. "Things not going as well as you hoped?"

Markkus's gaze lingered on the man a moment longer before sliding back to the fire. "Her will is proving stronger than I anticipated."

The apothecary shook his head. "You could always just take the magic. She still wears the bracers, no?"

"I tried." Markkus reached into one of his desk drawers and withdrew two crystals, both of which glowed a blinding pale blue. He placed the crystals on the desk, then sat back in his chair. "After she started taking the blood clover drug again, I drew out some magic while she was asleep."

"Is her magic not what you want?"

"No, not like this." Markkus sighed, picking up one of the crystals from the desktop and turning it between his fingers. "This only allows me to use ice magic, but Elsa can do more than that. Far, far more. Without any training, she managed to cover her kingdom in twenty feet of snow, to freeze the sea for miles out, and create sentient life. This crystal—" he curled his lip as he tossed it back onto the desk. "—at most allows our people to fling ice shards and craft defensive barriers. It's no different than the other crystals, just using a different element."

"There are other ways to bend her will." The other man raised an eyebrow, rubbing his tented fingertips together. "I don't understand why you are being so careful."

"Whatever Elsa is, it's not human. Nor is it spirit." Markkus sighed. "I need her, but her magic is tied tightly to her emotions. If we place to much pressure in the wrong spot, the results could be . . . unmanageable."

The man leaned back in the chair, his gaze dropping to the crystals. "What do you plan on doing with her?" he asked.

"The same thing I did with you," Markkus answered.

The apothecary snorted, shaking his head. "You didn't have to drug me into submission."

"No." The corner of Markkus's lip curled as he remembered the day that he found the man, then a seven-year-old boy, in a tiny village, covered in blood and surrounded by bodies. The apothecary was only person besides the Queen of Arendelle that he had ever encountered possessing magic they were born with. "I did not," he said. "And eventually, I will not have to drug her, either." Having decided, he scooped up the crystals and dropped them back into the drawer, shutting it with a snap. "Double her dose of the blood clover and prepare for a walk."

The apothecary pressed his lips into a tight line. "I thought you said you don't want her to be mindlessly obedient?"

"I don't," Markkus said. "But that doesn't mean I don't want a failsafe, just in case." He tapped his fingertips on the desktop and nodded. "I trust your work."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas and happy holidays, thank you to everyone who gave a response about Frozen II, it's been a lot of help. I think I have a clearer picture of how I am going to approach some of it now. Some of the description of the secret room may sound familiar if you have read Forest of Shadows. It is by design as we get further and further into the story things will start to deviate from some of the cannon material. I would tell you how much but I don't really write the story, I just let the characters lose and write up the incident report. 
> 
> Castling -Chess term; A move in which the king and a rook are moved at the same time. It moves the king from the center to a flank where it usually is safer, and it develops the rook.


	33. Way Down We Go

Elsa stared out the window in her room, her gaze fixed on the glass, streaked with tiny streams of water from the rain that had started without warning nearly an hour earlier. A sense of calm, of peace, fell over her as she watched the rain softly beat against the glass. After Markkus had left her alone in the empty courtyard, she sat for a while on the low stone wall, thinking about his offer, her future, her sister, about everything and nothing. She allowed herself time to relax, to just enjoy the ocean breeze as it danced across her skin.

It was long past dark when she returned to her room. She spent the night tossing and turning, examining her choices from every angle she could, wanting to make the choice that would benefit everyone.

Over the three months following her coronation, Elsa had slowly grown use to her sister's constant presence, the comforting knowledge that she could see her any time she wanted. The last few weeks, her absence had created an overwhelming and painfully familiar ache that settled in her chest. She missed Anna fiercely, but knew she had to see this through. Markkus had helped her open doors to her power that she hadn't dreamed of touching, but she knew she had only scratched the surface. There was more to discover here, within herself. She couldn't leave until she found it.

Elsa took a deep breath, releasing it slowly as she pulled the paper and pen toward her. She'd asked Ray to find the items for her earlier in the day, and spent time carefully debating what she wanted to say, knowing that multiple people were going to be unhappy with the letter's contents. But she had to do what was right, and she knew that _this_ was right. It had to be. It was better for her people, and for her family, if she stayed in Hasvik and learned all she could about magic. About _her_ magic. It would only be a few weeks. Arendelle would be fine without her, she just needed a little more time.

She had toyed with the idea of going back home, long enough to make sure everything in Arendelle was running smoothly, and to spend time with her sister, but she was afraid that with everything that had happened, once home she wouldn't be able to leave again. Not only forcing herself to leave, but she knew it would be nearly impossible to convince the council and her Guard Captain to allow her to leave. Staying would be difficult, but it would be easier in the long run for her to just stay put, see this through, and then she could go home. Nothing worth having was ever easy, but she could do this. For her sister, her people, and for herself.

Elsa pressed the pen against the paper and began to write, choosing her words with care. It would upset Anna—that much she knew. The Admiral and her Guard Captain would not be thrilled with her, either, but they didn't know what it was like to fear themselves, to worry about what damage they could cause just because they were feeling stressed. She could try to explain it, but she could never make them understand. Truthfully, she hoped they would never have a reason to understand.

She kept the letter short and to the point. They would want more details, but they could wait. As she wrote, Elsa's mind wondered. She pressed her fingertips against her forehead and took a moment to collect her thoughts, focus on what she needed to do, pushing all other thoughts to the side. Captain Jogeir would insist one of Arendelle's guards be left behind at Hasvik with her while she remained here. Elsa didn't have any issue but didn't know how Markkus—or the Vindarr's council members—would feel about that. From everything Markkus had told her, the council didn't seem to be very fond of her—with good reason—and were even less happy about the fact Markkus was spending so much of his time training her to use her magic when there was little for the Vindarr to gain from it.

It was very likely an unavoidable conflict, and she would bring it up to him when she brought him her request to stay, and the two letters she was writing. One to be delivered to the Admiral at the Sirma encampment, and the other to her sister in Arendelle.

* * *

Anna felt a mix of relief and apprehension as the group rode into the northern camp. Some small part of her had hoped that by the time she returned Elsa would be here, that the Vindarr would have released her. But she could tell just by the tension hanging in the air that it wasn't so.

As she, Kristoff, and Captain Jogeir rode further into camp, she spotted Alarik in front of the command tent, speaking with a soldier.

Alarik clap a hand against the man's shoulder. "Go ahead, get yourself something warm to eat," he said, nodding toward the mess tent.

The soldier snapped a salute, then turned and walked away as Anna pulled her horse to a stop near the tent's entrance.

"Your Highness." Alarik offered the obligatory bow, then a friendly smile broke across his face as he asked, "I trust everything went well back home?"

Anna's shoulders slumped, and she felt a fresh wave of disappointment wash over her. She had done what Elsa asked of her—the food distributed, the council updated, the people reassured. The secret room Kristoff and Olaf had discovered in the library held an abundance of interesting books, many on the subject of magic, and even some information about the Landvættir, but nothing that was useful to their current situation and nothing on either the Sirma or the Vindarr. She'd been forced to come back empty-handed, with nothing of any actual use to offer.

She sighed, shifting her weight and dismounted her horse, allowing a nearby soldier to take the reins. Kristoff and Jogeir followed suit. "I took care of what needed to be done," she said. "The council strongly advised against me returning, but I need to be here. They'll just have to deal with it."

The corners of Alarik's lips twisted upwards. "I'm sure they will get over it. You should know that the naval ships made it and have anchored in a fjord not far from here. Their captains are just inside with Admiral Naismith."

Hope fluttered in Anna's chest like a trapped bird. "Any luck finding Hasvik?"

Alarik pressed his lips into a tight line and just like that, her heart sank. He gestured toward the command tent. "Let's talk inside."

Anna nodded, wrapping her arms around herself as she followed him inside. Not much had changed since she was last here. Erik was sitting on the cot that had once been Elsa's, what seemed a lifetime ago. They walled the back half of the tent off, turned it into sleeping areas, and to the right was the large map table where she had almost lost a hand. A shiver rolled down Anna's spine, she forcibly shoved the memory aside; it had already haunted her dreams enough times. She instead turned her attention to where the Admiral stood looking down at the table with a pensive look on his face, and the heated argument going on between what she assumed were the captains of the three naval ships.

"You'd be sailing blindly, with no way of knowing what you might run into. It would be suicide."

"So we should just throw our hands into the air and not even try?"

"I'm not saying that. I'm saying we need to be careful, even if it means going slow. We will be no help to the Queen if we sink the ships trying to get there!"

"Your Highness," Naismith said loudly and pointedly. The arguing ground to a halt, each captain looking embarrassed at being caught fighting like children. They bowed as she approached the table.

Anna took a deep breath, trying to channel the regal composure that always seemed to come so naturally to her sister. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"Just a lively discussion, ma'am." The Admiral offered her a reassuring smile, then shot a look to each of the captains.

"I've seen lively discussions like this before," Kristoff said as he stood next to Anna. "They usually end in bloody noses and drunken brawls."

"I doubt it'll come to that." The admiral gestured to the captains. "Your Highness, may I introduce Captains Johan of the Gambit, Gunnar of the Dagny, and Lisbet of the Snow Squall."

Anna raised an eyebrow, her gaze stopping on Captain Gunnar; the name hit a familiar cord. The man was in his forties, with a gaunt but handsome face and stubborn strands of dark brown, almost lost among the greying hair. "The Dagny?"

"Yes ma'am." Gunnar nodded. "The second largest ship in the fleet, reflagged at Queen Elsa's request shortly after . . ." A frown crossed his face.

Anna didn't need him to continue; she could fill in the rest of the sentence well enough on her own. Growing up, the navy had fascinated her, the romance of sailing to unknown lands, of loved ones waiting for your return at the harbor, of adventure. She'd spent as much time as she could trying to draw stories out of the few sailors that visited the castle, mostly the higher-ranking officers and thus knew, at least by name, many of the old captains and the ships they commanded. She recalled Captain Gunnar, Commander of the Agnarr, and until a few years ago the flagship of the navy.

When a monarch ascends the throne, they commission a new flagship that would bear the name of the monarch or a trait closely tied to them, depending on the condition and age the old one remains in service under the same name. But Anna knew how superstitious sailors could be, it didn't surprise her to hear the ship was reflagged. It wouldn't do to sail a ship named after a man lost at sea.

She turned her attention to Lisbet, a woman perhaps a few years younger than Gunnar, with a thin scar that ran from just below her chin to disappear beneath the collar of her uniform jacket. "And the Snow Squall I'm guessing is our flagship?"

Lisbet dipped her chin. "Yes, ma'am. An ice breaker to boot."

The start of a smile pulled gently at the corner of Anna's lips. "I can't imagine Elsa being quite onboard with that name."

"No." The Admiral shook his head, an amused glint in his eye. "It took a considerable amount of convincing and in the end, Her Majesty was outvoted."

Anna wrinkled her nose. "I thought you couldn't outvote the Queen?"

"You can't, but you can wear her down." He cocked his head thoughtfully. "Occasionally."

Anna released a sharp breath and shook her head. She couldn't imagine what it would have taken for anyone to wear Elsa down enough to allow the naval flagship to be named in relation to her magic. Suddenly, she found herself with a newfound respect for the man. "Speaking of Elsa, have you found Hasvik?" she asked once more, hoping that Alarik's suggestion that they speak inside the tent meant some sort of plan was being decided.

Her hopes were dashed almost immediately.

"Unfortunately, we have had no luck," Naismith answered. "It's what the lively discussion you walked in on was about."

Captain Johan, a smaller but no less built man with an aggressively receding hairline, gestured toward the map on the table. "According to the Sirma—" His gaze flicked toward Erik and back, "—we know the island is in this area here." He tapped a slender finger against the map. "The problem, however, is with the fog surrounding it."

"We sent a scout ship to map the area." Lisbet folder her arms over her chest. "When they were overdue by three days, we sent a second to locate the missing ship. It came back empty-handed. No ship, no island."

Anna's heart sank even further, her stomach twisting painfully. "So, what does that mean?"

"For the moment," Naismith answered, "it means we are in a holding pattern while we try to plan our next move."

"What about Rune?" Kristoff asked suddenly. "We were able to use her connection to Elsa to help us locate the Sirma encampment."

Alarik tilted his head. "I'm not sure that would work in this instance. The issue isn't knowing what direction to sail in, it's knowing what lies between us and Hasvik, and how to navigate it. The fog is so thick that you can barely see past the bow." He blew out a breath and rubbed the back of his neck. "Our options right now are to sail in blindly and hope the gods are favoring us, find a way to banish the fog, or hope the Vindarr release the Queen."

Anna's shoulders sagged. The options they had were terrible—one was an unacceptable risk, and the other two were long shots at best. She shook her head and opened her mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by a soldier entering the tent.

"Sir." He came to a sudden halt when he spotted Anna inside and bowed. "Your Highness."

"What is it?" Naismith asked.

The soldier cast a glance over his shoulder, then back to the group. "A messenger claiming to be from Hasvik just arrived. He said he was to deliver these and wait for a reply." He held out two letters. "They're from the Queen."

* * *

"With all due respect, Your Highness, I can neither condone nor allow this."

"With all due respect, Captain," Anna bit out, "I don't need your permission."

As Alarik watched the two argue, he couldn't decide what stunned him more, that Anna was arguing with Captain Jogeir or that the Captain was arguing with Anna. The heat in Anna's voice also surprised him. He knew she was a stubborn person—he'd seen it for himself on a few different occasions during her visits to Valle—but there was an edge of authority in her voice now that he'd never heard before.

The two had been going at it since Anna read the letter from her sister. It had been short, painfully vague with little in the way of details, stating that while Markkus had told the Queen she was free to go, Elsa was delaying her departure. She said there were things in Hasvik that she wished to tend to before returning home. The second letter, addressed to the Admiral, had been even shorter, stating only that he was to stand down the navy, but hold the Sirma camp until further instructions.

Suspicious didn't even come close to how everyone felt about the Queen's orders. Anna had decided, with no discussion, that if Elsa was going to stay at Hasvik under her own free will, then she would travel to the frozen island and see the Queen for herself. She wrote a quick letter of reply and handed it off to the Vindarr messenger, sending him off before telling anyone of her intentions or what she had included in her response. The Captain and Princess had been arguing since.

"The Queen thinks you are still in Arendelle. She sent you back home for a reason, and it's my job to protect you. I can't do that if you run headlong into danger."

"It's your job to protect the Queen—"

"Who charged me with your protection."

"To ensure I made it to Arendelle safely," Anna retorted. "Which I did. Job well done; you have fulfilled your duty. Now, I plan on going to Hasvik. If Elsa is right and Markkus is on the level, there is nothing to worry about." Anna folded her arms over her chest, raising her chin.

Jogeir shook his head and took a step forward. "We don't know anything about this Markkus or the Vindarr except what the Sirma have told us." He threw a hand in Erik's direction. "You could be walking into a trap. This could be exactly what they want in order to force something from the Queen."

Anna pressed her lips into a thin line. For a moment, Alarik could see her considering the man's words, but in the end, she shook her head. "Elsa says she trusts him, that he has already said she's free to go. Captain Jogeir, are you questioning the Queen's judgement?"

Alarik's eyes went wide. There was a trap if he'd ever seen one, and it surprised him to see Anna of all people set it. The younger woman wasn't nearly as carefree and simple as she pretended to be, but verbal sparring had never been her strong suit, as she preferred to take the most direct, and often blunt, path through conversations and arguments. The verbal trap may not be the most elegant, but it was an effective trap, nonetheless. There was no good answer.

Anna took pity on the man, saving him from having to try to answer the question. "Captain, I know you are only trying to do what you think is right, and I commend your loyalty. You're right, this could be a trap. We could be playing right into Markkus's hands. But if Elsa is in danger, then I can't sit by and do nothing. Right now, we have no way to locate the island. If Markkus sends someone to escort me to the island, then maybe we can use that to find a way through the fog." She worked her jaw. "Elsa has been there long enough that Markkus has to understand that harming me will not win him Elsa's cooperation. And after everything the Sirma already did to her, she is not very likely to play ball."

"Wouldn't it be smarter to send someone else?" Jogeir asked, one last attempt to get Anna to see his perspective, though his voice was tinged with resignation. "Anyone else? I don't like the idea of handing the Vindarr Arendelle's entire line of succession."

Once again, Anna shook her head. "If Elsa is choosing to stay there, then she's more likely to open up to me about her reasons."

"She's also more likely to lose her temper with you than anyone else," Kristoff said, immediately wincing. "No offense, Anna, but you both have a habit of pushing each other's buttons."

Alarik watched as Anna's gaze dropped to the floor, as though remembering something specific, and he couldn't help but wonder if there was a story there. He had overheard the sisters arguing in Valle, but he got the feeling Kristoff wasn't talking about that. He took a deep breath, deciding now was as good a time as any to throw his two skillings into the mix.

"While I agree with Kristoff and Captain Jogeir," Alarik said, looking to each man before focusing his attention to Anna, "I think the Princess might be the better option to go to Hasvik. Markkus has had the Queen for almost a month now, and whatever he's done to keep her compliant, he doesn't need Princess Anna for it. And if he has done something to her, the Princess is in a far better position than any of us to pick up on whatever subtle hints the Queen may offer, knowingly or otherwise."

The Admiral sighed heavily, looking no more pleased at the situation than anyone else in the room. "I don't like it. But at least it's a plan."

"She can't go alone." Captain Jogeir folded his arms over his chest. "If this is the insane plan we are going with, then I'll accompany her to Hasvik."

"I'll go as well," Alarik spoke up before anyone else had the chance. "If we aren't able to bring Queen Elsa back, then at least I'll be able to see the route the Vindarr ship sails, giving us a better chance to make it back to the island if we need to."

Anna perked up. "You think you can remember the way?"

Alarik honestly wasn't sure if he could. Long before becoming a naval captain, he had spent a few years as a scout. Not many, but enough that he knew what he was doing. It would depend on how dense the fog was, how much of the area he'd be able to see, but if he could get a good look at the stars, then he might have a chance. "I can try."

"This is all assuming Markkus even lets you see her," Kristoff interjected. "We still have to wait for his reply."

Anna's shoulders sagged, but the determined look on her face didn't fade.

* * *

Elsa wrung her hands as she slowly paced around the room, her stomach twisting in knots. After training, Markkus had told Elsa about the letter her sister sent to him. He didn't go into specifics, saying only that the letter was very short and to the point, requesting that, if Elsa was going to spend the next few weeks in Hasvik, Anna be allowed to see her. Her sister wanted to assure herself and their people that Elsa was in fact there now of her own free will, that she could leave whenever she chooses, that she wasn't being coerced. Markkus told her that he had immediately sent an escort to the camp, to see the Princess, and whichever guards she chose to bring with her, safely to Hasvik.

That had been two days ago.

Anna was going to be here, today. After almost a month, Elsa was going to get to see her sister again, and this time there would be no chains or shackles between them. Her heart was racing, and her palms felt sweaty. The day after Markkus told her, they had continued training as per their normal routine, but after only an hour, and multiple painful shocks and bruises to both her ego and person, Markkus put an abrupt end to the session. He told her she'd made enough progress that they could afford to take a few days off, and if she wanted to convince her sister she was perfectly safe in Hasvik, it would be easier to do so without being covered in bruises and red marks.

Elsa had felt embarrassed for allowing her mind to wander so much during training, resulting in those marks, but she couldn't help it. She was having a hard time keeping focus, her thoughts constantly trailing off and finding their way to the hypotheticals of the approaching visit. She was certain she hadn't felt this mixture of nervousness and excitement since the weeks leading up to her coronation. This time, however, there was far less fear and dread threatening to drown her.

But less didn't mean none. Elsa found that she was still afraid, a tiny fraction of her dreading the moment her sister would step into this room. She was afraid because she knew Anna was going to try to convince her to return home. To leave Hasvik. And she couldn't. Not yet, not until she finished what she started.

The last time her sister had tried to force her to return home, it ended in the worst way. Elsa paused in her pacing, looking down at the softly glowing cuffs that wrapped around each wrist. She could at least take some comfort in the knowledge that even if Anna pushed her, Elsa couldn't accidently hurt her this time. No matter how heated things got. Not with her magic bound.

Elsa dropped her hands to her sides. She couldn't fault her sister, knowing that if their situations were reversed, she would never entertain the idea of allowing her little sister to stay in Hasvik, no matter how helpful or nice Markkus appeared to be. She supposed that made her a bit of a hypocrite. But it didn't matter. She would do whatever she had to, to ensure her sister returned to Arendelle. There had been a few instances in the past when she had used her position as Queen to force her sister in line, and she absolutely hated it. It always felt wrong and underhanded. It felt dirty.

But there were things she knew that her little sister didn't understand, times when Anna allowed her passion to blind her, and Elsa didn't know how else to make her sister listen. It made her feel like the worst sister in the world, though she knew she'd already claimed that title when she froze Anna's heart, then kicked her out of her ice palace.

Elsa released a sharp breath and sat heavily on the edge of her bed, burying her face in her hands. Her stomach once more twisted painfully at the memory of Anna like that, frozen in the middle of the fjord, sacrificing herself to protect the very sister responsible for her death. The very thing she spent thirteen years isolating herself from others to avoid. Within hours of opening the gates, Elsa had almost ruined everything. It was a miracle the council or Arendelle didn't call for her head.

She shoved off the bed, clenching her hands in front of her chest. This was why she had to stay here in Hasvik, why she had to finish what she started. So those mistakes could never happen again. She couldn't risk it.

Elsa took a steadying breath and pressed her fingertips against her forehead, a frown pulling at her lips. Her thoughts drifting once more to Markkus, to the conversation they had about the possibility of one of her soldiers or guards staying here in Hasvik with her, as a security measure. She understood the man's reservations and couldn't help but see reason in them. There was going to be an argument of some kind before the day was over, of that she was sure.

A loud knock on the door pulled Elsa from her thoughts. As she turned toward the door, a tingling sensation bloomed in her chest and raced through the rest of her body, infusing her with warmth while her heart thudded almost painfully.

The door opened, and her thoughts scattered. All the worry and fear, the stress and tension from the past month melted away in an instant. Her sister's face wavered through her suddenly watery eyes. "Anna."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought I would give everyone a New Year's Present. I hope everyone enjoys. I have the next few chapters outlined, I think up to chapter 38 which usually helps me with writing at a more steady pace. I am going to stick with the posting scheduling I have been trying to meet of posting once a week. I think I'm going to move it from Sunday to Mondays as I usually have more free time Sunday to write.


	34. The Gathering Storm

Anna resisted the urge to twist her fingers in the sleeve of her shirt as she tried to take in and memorize everything she was seeing. There had been little in the way of conversation with the guards who were escorting them to Hasvik, only a brief greeting before the group from Arendelle boarded the ship. Despite her bravado, Anna felt nervous, scared, excited, and regretting that third sweet roll she had before leaving the camp.

They sailed for a few hours before she spotted a giant wall of mist that seemed to rise out of the ocean, reaching into an unfathomable height.

 _This must be the mist where the scouts got lost_ , she thought, suddenly curious how the Vindarr were going to navigate it. She tried not to show too much interest, but her eyes widened considerably when the helmsmen pulled a crystal from his shirt and held it aloft. It glowed a brilliant yellow, and the mist in front of them parted for the boat to pass through.

She chanced a glance toward Jogeir and Alarik to find them watching the man with just as much fascination, and couldn't help but wonder what each man was thinking.

They sailed for some time after that, an odd sense of timelessness as they drifted through the mist. It felt like forever, and like mere moments passed before the mist broke away completely and allowed them their first view of Hasvik.

"Whoa," Anna breathed.

The island itself wasn't large, but what it lacked in width it more than made up for in height. Steep rock faces that sunk below the ocean waves framed the island as far as she could see, except for a small stretch of sandy beach a mile long and a quarter mile deep. Sitting high above them was Hasvik Keep. The structure was smooth rock, with clean-cut lines, sharp edges and looming towers that made Arendelle castle look like nothing more than a common shed.

The ship bumping against the dock drew Anna's attention from the keep. The crew moved to tie down the boat while the guards gestured for Anna and her party to disembark. Alarik assisted her as she stepped out onto the slick wooded dock, stepping carefully to maintain her balance. They ushered the group up a short staircase onto a long winding path that led from the docks to the keep and through the outer gates until they finally reached the inner gates that led inside.

Anna took a deep breath as the guards led them inside, her stomach twisting with butterflies. She balled her hands into fists to keep from fidgeting. She didn't know what to expect but knew she needed to keep a calm front, to seem in control.

After some twists and turns along long hallways, they walked into what Anna could only assume was their version of a throne room. Instead of housing a single throne, there was a table surrounded by seats, with the one at the far side of the room standing taller than the rest. There was a fireplace and large windows, but the room was otherwise bare, the walls empty and stretching upwards to disappear into the dark.

The man standing in front of the table, wearing a smile that was as disarming as it was welcoming, immediately drew Anna's attention. He appeared to be in his mid-forties, with salt and pepper hair that only added to his obvious charm.

The man offered a low bow, pressing a hand to his chest. "Princess Anna, I presume. My name is Markkus, and I welcome you to Hasvik."

Anna pressed her lips into a tight line, forcing what she hoped to be a smile. "Thank you for having us, and for the escort. I'm not sure we could have found the place on our own."

"By design, I assure you. The mist protects the island from any would-be invaders. But you don't want to hear about that," he said, waving a dismissive hand. "Elsa has told me much about you. It's good to finally meet you."

Anna had to resist the urge to frown, immediately hating the familiarity with which this man said her sister's name. "I wish I could say the same. Unfortunately, Elsa has been rather sparse, offering details about yourself or Hasvik. Though it is good to finally put a face to the man that has held my sister a captive audience."

Markkus raised his eyebrows and released an amused snort of air. "I'm sure you are eager to see her. I'll have the guards escort you to her at once."

"If I may," Anna blurted out, trying not to wince and hoping she didn't accidently insult the man holding her sister. "Your keep is very impressive, I've never seen anything like it before. I was wondering if you would allow my guards a tour? If it's not too much of a bother."

Markkus was silent for a moment before finally dipping his chin and gesturing to someone behind them. "I would be more than happy to have someone show you around."

Jogeir tilted his head. "Your Highness, while I appreciate the thought, and would jump at the chance if I were younger, I would prefer to stay nearby. I'm afraid the weather here does not agree with my aching joints, but my far younger companion," he said, gesturing to Alarik while looking at Markkus, "would surely be interested in a tour, as he is naturally prone to wandering off to explore."

Anna winced, fairly certain Jogeir had just taken a dig at Alarik for what happened in Sioaskard. The man sure knew how to hold a grudge.

* * *

Anna took deep, steadying breaths as she and Captain Jogeir followed the two guards to Elsa's room. Her excitement and apprehensive making her feel lightheaded. When the guard stopped in front of a door, her heart skipped a beat. It had been so long, but now this bit of heavy, polished wood—and a couple of guards—was all that stood between her and Elsa. The man knocked on the door, offering a respectful moment's pause before pushing it open and stepping aside to allow Anna and the Captain to enter.

She stepped quickly into the room and immediately stopped short. She gaped wordlessly at her sister, the very sight of her striking Anna like a punch to the chest and stealing her breath, bringing tears to her eyes.

There was nothing obviously wrong with her, which should have put Anna at ease. Elsa's face showed no trace of the bruises she carried when Anna had last seen her. Her hair looked soft and clean, pulled back into a loose bun, a comfortable style Anna wasn't used to seeing on her regal, perpetually put-together sister.

But the cuffs on Elsa's wrists drew her gaze, and it forced Anna to remind herself that whatever this Markkus was telling her sister, Elsa was still in some way imprisoned here at Hasvik.

"Anna," Elsa said, and her name sounded like it caught in her sister's throat as she crossed the distance between them.

Anna met her halfway and wrapped her arms tightly around her older sister. She didn't know which of them squeezed tighter, though she supposed it didn't really matter. Instantly, she felt all her worries and troubles and everything horrible and stressful that had occurred over the last month—that was still happening—melt away within her sister's embrace. For a moment, she found herself still wanting to believe that her big sister could make everything better, like she had as a girl.

Elsa pulled out of the hug first but didn't fully break contact. She brushed Anna's bangs from her forehead and gently cupped the sides of her face, her thumbs brushing away the tears Anna hadn't even realized were there. She saw her sister's own eyes water, tears threatening to fall. Elsa leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to Anna's forehead, then pulled back only far enough to rest her forehead against Anna's.

They stood like that for a long time, drawing comfort in each other's presence and savoring a moment that had taken far too long in coming. It was an unspoken understanding that neither knew when they'd next get the chance to be close. Anna silently hoped it wouldn't be any further away than later that same day, and again the day after, and the day after that.

Elsa finally pulled away fully, dropping her hands to Anna's and giving them a small squeeze. "Are you okay?"

Anna almost wanted to laugh—almost. Of course, that would be the first question out of her sister's mouth. "I'm okay," she assured her. "And before you ask: Arendelle is fine, the people are okay, and we have distributed the food out as per your extensive instructions." She smiled. "Everyone is okay."

Elsa's shoulders slumped as she released a heavy sigh, and Anna could see the tension melting out of her posture. Or some of it, at least.

Anna gave her sister's hands a light squeeze in return, ducking her chin to meet Elsa's eyes. "We're all worried about you."

"I'm fine," Elsa quickly replied, her tone dismissive.

Anna fought to not roll her eyes. "I think we've already established that you don't actually know what the definition of 'fine' is."

Her sister tilted her head, reaching out to brush Anna's hair from her face. "You worry too much."

"You've been held prisoner for over a month," Anna was quick to retort. "Forced to fight in a war. Passed from one captor to the next. Confined once more to a single space. I can go on." She tore her gaze from her sister's eyes to sweep the room. It was what bothered Anna the most, the thing she feared would cause her sister the most problems. Being confined to a room—even this room, which seemed large and comfortable enough—didn't seem on the surface to be the worst thing they had subjected Elsa to, but it was something Elsa had already gone through. The fact her sister had spent thirteen years isolating herself from everyone out of fear of hurting them, then enjoyed three months of freedom just to be forced back into a similar situation was worrying. It scared Anna that all the progress her sister had made, how she had slowly but steadily begun to come out of her shell and enter the world again, could be undone. That Elsa could fall back into old patterns if this went on for too much longer. This time, with the mess of everything else that had happened layered on top, pulling her sister out of those self-destructive patterns would be that much harder.

She looked back to her sister. "I'm not sure there is a such thing as too much worry at this point."

Elsa frowned, her eyes crinkling as she rubbed her forehead. She sighed, then fixed Anna with a look. "Why aren't you in Arendelle?"

"I was."

Elsa pressed her lips together. "You were not in Arendelle when you received my last letter, nor when you sent your reply to Markkus."

Anna lifted a shoulder. "You never said I had to stay in Arendelle."

"It was implied."

She considered a witty retort, but opted instead for the simple truth. "You knew I was never going to stay put."

"No," Elsa admitted. "But I had hoped. I am surprised the council let you leave."

"I didn't give them much of a choice." Anna squeezed the chilly hand that was still in hers. "I wasn't going to stay at home where it was warm and safe while you were imprisoned, suffering god knows what."

Elsa gave her a soft smile. "I appreciate the concern, but as I told you in my first letter, I'm perfectly safe here."

Anna opened her mouth but was unable to find the right words to counter the absurdity of her sister's statement. "I'm confused," she said, shaking her head. "Because when they escorted us to your room, I saw two _armed_ guards standing outside your door. Your locked door. And correct me if I'm wrong, but those cuffs on your wrists still look like they are very much blocking your magic."

Elsa frowned, her gaze taking on a faraway quality as she raised one wrist and looked at the cuff. "It's complicated."

Anna shook her sister's hand gently, breaking her from her stupor. "I'm listening," she said, though there was no denying the pit of worry that was forming in her gut.

Elsa met her gaze, rolling her lips against her teeth. "I'm glad you're okay," she said finally. "I was scared something might have happened to you in the fighting, or on the way back to Arendelle."

The pit in Anna's stomach widened as her sister attempted to change the subject. "Elsa, you're deflecting," she said boldly. "Badly." There was once a time she never would have dared launch such an accusation at her older sister, but she had faced the Council; she could say anything to anyone now. Her sister was a lot of things, but inelegant and clumsy wasn't one of them. Anna had watched her sister verbally dance her way around numerous discussions, had been more than once on the receiving end of Elsa's masterful skills of deflection, had seen firsthand her ability to direct a conversation toward the direction she wanted without the other person realizing it was happening. It was something Anna herself wouldn't realize had happened until long after the conversation was over, and it drove her nuts every time.

There was nothing elegant or masterful at work here. Up close, Elsa looked weary, unfocused. Anna squeezed her sister's hands. "If Markkus said you were free to return home, why are there still guards outside your door? Why hasn't he removed the cuffs?"

Elsa's gaze bounced between the door and the cuffs in question. She released Anna's hands and took a few steps away before turning back. "I am responsible, directly and indirectly, for the deaths of a lot of Vindarr soldiers," she said. "The guards are there to make sure no one tries to take some sort of misguided attempt at revenge, and the cuffs help keep my magic in check, and—" Elsa's face suddenly scrunched up, and she pressed a hand to her forehead.

Anna's stomach executed an uneasy flop as she patiently waited for Elsa to collect her thoughts and finish her sentence.

After a long moment, Elsa shook her head. "If I can't use my magic, the Vindarr won't see me as a threat."

"Elsa, that doesn't sound like perfectly safe to me," Anna told her, folding her arms over her chest. "That sounds like an awful lot of danger, and for what?"

Elsa wrapped her arms around herself, tearing her gaze away. "You wouldn't understand."

Anna stepped toward Elsa and pressed a hand against her chest. "Then explain it to me so I can."

Elsa wouldn't look at her, chewing on her lower lip as she shook her head. Anna could see the tears forming in her sister's eyes again, threatening to fall. "Markkus is teaching me about magic," she finally said, so low Anna had to strain to hear it. "He is showing me how to control my power."

"That's why you wanna stay." Anna closed her eyes, feeling any argument she hoped to offer crumble under the weight of her sister's statement, but she couldn't give up. She couldn't leave her sister here. "Elsa . . ." She took a deep breath, collecting her own thoughts. "Elsa, I know what that means to you, but I don't think this is the best place to find those answers."

Elsa kept her gaze diverted. "This is the only place, Anna."

"It's not. I know it's not." Anna positioned herself in front of her sister, forcing Elsa to look at her. "I wasn't going to say anything until we got home, but . . ." She bit down on her lip, unsure how her sister was going to take the news. For her, it had been a mixture of excitement and frustration, but she worried Elsa would only feel the frustration. It was why she had wanted to wait until they were home together to tell her sister, to show her.

"But?" Elsa prodded.

Anna pulled in a deep breath. "Kristoff, Olaf, and I were in the library looking for information on the Sirma and Vindarr, and somehow Olaf and Kristoff found a secret room hidden behind a bookcase."

Elsa's brow wrinkled. "I don't understand," she said, shaking her head.

"I think the room belonged to Mother and Father." She tentatively reached out, taking her sister's hand. "Elsa, there were books in there about magic. I didn't have time to read through any, but I'm certain there's something there that can help you."

"There is something _here_ that can help me." Elsa pulled her hand away and gestured widely. "There are people here who use magic every day. People who understand it."

"People who stolen it from spirits," Anna said hotly. She thought back to Markkus, the man's charming smile and smooth persona, and felt a chill run down her spin. The man gave her the creeps. "I don't trust Markkus."

Elsa coolly met her gaze. "I do."

"You can't be serious." Anna threw out a hand. "Elsa, he is using you. I don't know what for, but there is just something about him. Something unsettling."

Elsa shook her head and folded her arms over her chest, letting out a huff of air as she crossed the room.

Anna felt her cheeks warming in the face of her sister's flippant, dismissive attitude. "Elsa," she bit out sharply. "Come on, you have to see it. I know you're smarter than this."

Elsa turned back sharply, a scowl on her face. "I'm not a child, Anna, nor am I blind. I know that Markkus wants something from me." Her expression eased. "I don't know what it is, but one doesn't offer to help an enemy combatant without wanting something in return."

Anna stayed silent for a long moment, digesting what her sister was saying. "But you trust him?" she asked in a small voice.

"I do."

"Why?"

"Because—" Elsa frowned tightly, pressing her hand to her forehead in a way that was frighteningly familiar. She dropped her hand, wrapping the arm around her body. "If Markkus was going to harm me, don't you think he's had more than enough time to do so already?"

It wasn't an answer. At least, not to the question Anna had asked. She held out a hand, palm toward her sister, and attempted to keep her voice steady despite the anxious thumping within her chest. "Elsa, I think something is wrong." She bit down on her lip before adding _with you,_ knowing that would cause her sister to get defensive, and that would get them nowhere.

Elsa rolled her eyes tiredly. "I told you I'm fine. There's nothing wrong."

Anna stared at her sister in complete disbelief. The moment she had stepped into the room, she knew something was off. The more they talked, the more Elsa talked, the surer she was that there was something wrong.

"Markkus won't hurt me," Elsa insisted.

"And you just believe him?" Anna pressed.

"He has no reason to lie to me."

"He has every reason to lie to you!" Anna took a deep breath and stepped back. Getting angry would not help the situation, but she needed her sister to see reason. "Elsa, you need to come home."

Elsa shook her head. "I can't. I have to see this through."

"What about Arendelle? Me? Your people? You are the Queen, and you have a duty—"

"I know my duty, Anna," Elsa snapped. "And that's what I am trying to do."

"How?" Anna lifted her shoulders. "By isolating yourself again? By trusting a man you don't even know?"

"By learning how to control my magic so I don't hurt anyone else!"

"Elsa, you were doing fine before. You have control."

Her sister shook her head. "No, I don't. I know how to get rid of what I accidently make, and I've learned to suppress it better, but my magic grows _every day,_ Anna _._ It's like this wild force raging beneath my skin, and some days it's all I can do to hold the tide back. But Markkus—he is teaching me how to accept my magic. How to work with it instead of against it, and how to not allow my emotions to control it."

Anna stood, at a loss for words, as the temperature in the room plummeted to an uncomfortable level. She was fairly certain this was the most her sister had ever said to her about her magic, on a personal level, about what it felt like. She wasn't sure what to do with it, how she factored in. "Okay," she breathed, patting the air between them. "Okay, but you need to come back to Arendelle. Maybe Markkus can continue teaching you there, or—"

"No," Elsa said firmly, shaking her head. "It's safer here, if I accidently lose control . . . "

Anna felt that gnawing pit in her stomach twist painfully as her sister again seemed to lose focus mid-sentence, as Elsa's arms tightened around herself like she was struggling with something. She crossed the distance between them and gripped her sister's shoulders. "Elsa."

Elsa's gaze snapped up to meet Anna's, but it was a long moment before she spoke. "You don't understand what it's like."

She didn't. Anna truly didn't understand what things were like for her sister—what _life_ was like—and that cut her deeper than she was willing to admit. Maybe with time and patience, she could get Elsa to open up more, and her sister could help her understand. But that was a thought for another time, when they were both safe and far away from here. "I know," Anna said. "I know that you're scared, and that Markkus is offering you something you have strived for your entire life, but staying here is dangerous. Even if Markkus isn't lying, you admitted yourself that there are people here who may want to hurt you, or worse."

"I'll be fine," Elsa replied, quietly but steadily.

"And what if you're wrong?" Anna pressed. "What if something happens? Where will Arendelle be without you? Where would I be?"

"Better off."

Anna recoiled, shocked from her sister's response. Elsa started to pull away, but Anna stopped her, grabbing either side of her cool face and forcing her sister to look at her. Even after Elsa met her gaze, she waited a beat to make sure she had her sister's full attention. "No," she said firmly. "Elsa, that is not even remotely true. How can you even say that? You made a mistake. Everyone makes mistakes."

Tears welled in Elsa's eyes. "You died."

"And I got better," Anna said. "That was just as much, if not more, my fault. I pushed you, even though the signs it was too much for you were literally swirling around me. At your coronation, you asked to talk to me privately. I was being stubborn and selfish and refused, and I shouldn't have. We both made mistakes. You are a great Queen, and your people see it. And you are the most important thing in the whole world to me." She forced a smile. "I would never, ever be better off without you."

Elsa wrung her hands in front of her chest but didn't pull away, and Anna marked that as a win.

She took a deep breath. "I know you, Elsa. And trusting a man you don't know? Choosing to stay here, isolated from all but, what, two, three people?" Anna shook her head. "This isn't you. Something is wrong with you. I don't know how Markkus has done it, but somehow, he's gotten into your head. Convinced you that you need his help."

Elsa reached up and gently took Anna's hands in her own. She pulled them from her face as she stepped back. "It's only been three months, Anna. Maybe you don't know me as well as you think you do."

Anna swallowed, her chest tightening. The comment cut deep, but she shook her head, not wanting to give the words any sort of weight. "I do know you, Elsa. I know you're having problems focusing right now."

Elsa opened her mouth to respond but averted her gaze, staring down at the floor. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said, stumbling over the words.

"I know you are," Anna persisted. "Because I've seen this look on your face before. I saw it in the days following your concussion whenever you'd lose focus or have problems concentrating on what you were working. I watched for it every day, because that was the point I knew it was time to call it a day."

Elsa shook her head, folding her arms across herself once more. "We are not having this conversation." She turned back to Anna, a steely look in her eyes. "You need to go back to Arendelle and take care of things until I can return."

"Elsa—"

"It'll only be another week, Anna. Two at most." Elsa's eyes were still a bit unfocused, but her jaw was set. "If it takes longer than that, I will return to Arendelle first and decide what happens from there."

Anna's jaw dropped. "You can't be serious."

For the first time, Elsa looked to Captain Jogeir, who had been standing silently next to the door through the conversation. "Captain Jogeir, you are to escort Anna home. And this time, ensure she stays there until I return."

He stepped forward. "Your Majesty—"

"That's an order, Captain."

"Yes, ma'am." Jogeir's gaze shifted from Elsa to Anna and back again. "Your Majesty, if I may? I would prefer either myself or Alarik remain here with you, if it is truly your wish to stay. Just for some added protection."

Anna chewed on her lower lip. She couldn't believe they were even entertaining the thought of Elsa staying here, but was feeling fractionally better at the thought of Alarik or Jogeir staying with her. They could at least watch over her, make sure Markkus didn't have any secret evil plot.

Elsa's answer took them both by surprise.

"No."

Jogeir blinked. "No, ma'am?"

"I have already discussed this possibility with Markkus, and he believes it's a bad idea." Elsa scrubbed her fingers against her forehead and frowned. "The Vindarr council already doesn't like my being here—"

"All the more reason for you to return home," Anna offered.

"And they are even less happy with Markkus taking up so much of his time training me," Elsa continued, like Anna hadn't even spoken. "Having one of my guards stay with me would only make things worse. Markkus's people are more than sufficient, and I trust them."

Anna rolled her eyes. "Even though you know he wants something."

"Yes," Elsa answered sharply. "Wanting something doesn't immediately mean malice or ill intentions. Everyone wants something from someone. Right now, for instance, I want you to do your duty and return to Arendelle to take care of our people in my absence."

"You mean do your duty in your absence." Anna crossed her arms and glared.

"Anna." Elsa's tone was edged with a warning, and the temperature of the room dropped even lower. "I am trying to protect my people."

"From yourself?"

"Yes!"

"At what cost?"

"Any cost!"

Anna threw her hands up in the air, no longer able to hold back her frustration. "This is ridiculous. You are being ridiculous. Elsa, you are the only one who thinks you are a threat to anyone. You are the only one holding yourself to this unreachable standard. You think if you can gain perfect control over your magic then you will be good enough." Anna squared up to her sister, looking Elsa directly in the eyes. "You're wrong. If you believe that, then you're only lying to yourself. You are already good enough—you are damn near perfect. I wish I was half as good as you, at anything. You are a wonderful Queen, one our parents would be so proud of, and I will keep telling you that until you believe it. Just please," she begged, her voice breaking. "Please come home with us."

Elsa stared at her sister for a long time before she slowly shook her head. "I'm sorry, Anna. I can't."

Anna dropped her head back. She wanted to cry and yell and drag her sister out of the damnable keep herself. She looked back at her sister and raised her eyebrows. "Fine, then I'm not leaving without you."

A shadow crossed Elsa's face, so quickly it was gone in a blink. "Yes, you will."

"You can't throw me out with a snow monster this time, Elsa. They block your magic." Anna gestured toward the softly glowing cuffs.

Elsa smiled sadly. "I don't need my magic to have you escorted out of the keep, Anna."

* * *

Jogeir remembered the day Elsa had become Queen; not the day the church recognized and anointed her, but the day she went from Crown Princess Elsa to Queen Elsa. It had been dark, the sky heavy with impending rain, a storm threatening to break—the perfect mirror for what was taking place inside the castle. He also remembered the day her father had become King, though he was only seven. Just old enough to grasp the gravity of the situation, yet too young to understand how it would affect him. King Runeard had taken an expedition north, then failed to return, in the same way King Agnarr embarked on a small, secret expedition, then failed to return.

The Captain frowned as he tried to recall Arendelle's history. Unless he was mixing his information, he was fairly certain that Runeard's mother had also gone on some sort of trip to the south and failed to return, followed some years later by his father, disappearing forever amid a search for his missing wife.

Queen Elsa had taken a trip north, only to be kidnapped.

Arendelle's royal family had a disturbing amount of bad luck with traveling. Once they got the Queen safely back to Arendelle, Jogeir wondered if he could somehow convince her to never leave the castle again. There was no way she would agree to such a thing, but it wouldn't hurt anything to try.

He shifted his gaze, watching Princess Anna ride in front of him, with Alarik at her side. She had been unusually quiet while the Vindarr sailors ferried them from Hasvik; it wasn't until they began their ride back to camp that the floodgates finally opened. Alarik had spent the last hour or so trying to soothe and calm the distraught woman, as she shifted from angry, to hurt, to scared, then back again to angry.

Jogeir had allowed the younger man to take the lead in calming the princess down, stopping her from storming into the Keep and doing something none of them would live to regret. He hung back, keeping silent guard as he spent the trip turning the Queen's words over in his head, replaying them like a broken music box. The more he thought about it, the more disturbed he became.

On the surface, he was calm and in control, but that was his job. On the inside, the conversation between the two sisters had shaken him to his core, and to some extent, Jogeir understood what Anna was feeling. Queen Elsa was not an easily influenced woman. She was stubborn, with her own ideas and opinions that she wasn't afraid to express or hold to. The idea that this Markkus had somehow gotten into the Queen's head and convinced her that staying in Hasvik, risking Arendelle, was her best option was beyond troubling.

But there was also something else that stuck out to Jogeir, something the Queen had said. Something he was afraid wasn't borne of her time in Hasvik, but may have been made worse for it.

Of course, it was possible there was no reason for concern, and this was all a product of the overactive imagination of a man whose job was to be on the lookout for something to go wrong. Jogeir dropped his gaze from his quietly conversing companions, pressing his lips into a tight line as he thought back on the conversation between the two women. Elsa had told her sister that Arendelle and Anna would be better off without her. At first, he had almost dismissed the statement, but the Queen wasn't one for dramatics and very rarely muddled her words. Even if the comment had been a one-off, he would have made note of it, but wouldn't really concern himself; he could only imagine the pressure and struggle the Queen was feeling. But the comment had brought to mind another conversation.

" _Admit it. You don't hate me because I almost killed you. You hate me because I didn't."_

Hans had spewed the words to Elsa, looking to hurt her as much as he could before he was shipped back home. But it was the Queen's refusal to deny the accusation that had filled the Captain's mind for days after.

Perhaps he could confide in Malthe about it. The doctor was better equipped to decide whether there was anything to be concerned about. It could all simply be the product of the stress and pressure that came from a young woman losing her parents, her only support, and gaining a kingdom in one fell swoop. Then to toss difficult to control magic into the mix, and he supposed anyone would consider throwing in the towel. He probably would have long before now himself.

Jogeir lifted his gaze to find the princess watching him expectantly. He couldn't tell her what was on his mind—at least not yet—as the Queen had given him an order to not talk about what happened with Hans to anyone, especially Anna.

"At least if anything happens, Elsa now knows she can break the cuffs."

Anna's head snapped toward Alarik, her eyes going wide before she groaned. "No! I—I can't believe I forgot to tell her the cuffs where cracked." She dropped her head to her chest, her fingers tightening around her horse's reins. "I was so focused on trying to convince her to come home."

Alarik leaned over and grabbed her shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze. "She smart. I'm sure if push comes to shove, she'll figure it out."

Anna shook her head. "She wouldn't have to if she'd stop being so stubborn and just come home."

"Well, it might not be her fault," Alarik said. "At least, not entirely. You said there seemed to be something wrong with her?"

Anna frowned deeply, her gaze dropping to where her hands fidgeted with the reins. "She was having problems concentrating. She kept stopping mid-sentence, like she forgot what she was talking about."

"We'll bring her home." Alarik gave the princess's shoulder another squeeze before pulling away. He turned in his saddle, concern wrinkling his brow. "Everything okay, Captain? I don't think you've said a word since we left the Keep."

"Mmm," Jogeir answered noncommittally. He silently turned the Princess's words over in his head, a thought forming in his mind. One he was sure would take the spot for worst and most dangerous. The type that if they were they wrong, losing their jobs and being exiled would be the best-case scenario. "I have an idea," he said finally. "About how we can bring the Queen home."

Anna immediately perked up, the scared and desolate slump of her shoulders replaced by a new, hopeful energy.

"We should wait until we're back at camp," Jogeir said quickly, before either could ask for more details. "This is something we'll need everyone to be in agreement about." For the first time in a long time, the captain was glad the final decision wouldn't fall on his own shoulders. He only had to offer his suggestion. After that, he only had to do what the Princess asked of him.

* * *

Elsa sat cross-legged on her bed, her gaze fixed sightlessly on the paper clenched between her fingers, trying to reconcile what had happened the day before. She had known her sister was going to ask her to return to Arendelle, and that Anna would have a hard time understanding why she couldn't. Elsa had prepared herself for the argument, spending two days silently rehearsing the conversation in her head and trying to find the best, most effective way to explain it to her sister.

When the time finally came, all those calm, logical responses she had prepared disappeared, and she instead became defensive, agitated, and stubborn. She had even threatened to have her own sister removed from the Keep by the guards. If not for Captain Jogeir, Anna likely would have refused to leave until Elsa made good on that threat. It was only when the door had shut behind Anna; the lock echoing hollowly as it clicked into place, did the full gravity of what had transpired, the isolation and loneliness of her situation, hit Elsa with all the force of an avalanche.

It had taken every ounce of willpower not to run after her sister, to apologize and return home with her. There was little more Elsa wanted. The feeling was a painful reminder of those days they had spent separated growing up, the ache she would feel whenever Anna asked her to come out, or just talk to her, and the heartbreak each time she heard her sister finally give up and walk away.

But Elsa knew she had to see this through. She needed to control her magic, no matter the situation. And for that, she needed Markkus. _Two weeks,_ she told herself. Just two more weeks and then she would return home, regardless of her level of control. She had to; she still had an entire country that was her responsibility.

And her sister.

It was important to Elsa that she learn how to control her magic, but she had been so fixated on that goal that she had neglected her sister. They were reunited only three months before being ripped apart once more—because of her magic. She knew Anna was scared and worried, looking for reassurance from a big sister that, despite never being there for her growing up, she still trusted, still believed could make everything okay again. It broke Elsa's heart to know that when her sister needed that, she had failed, again.

After Anna left, Elsa had spent the rest of the day lost within her own mind, and that night tossing and turning before finally falling into a restless, tearful slumber. She woke the next morning feeling no better; her head ached, her thoughts were slippery, her chest felt like it was being crushed in a vice, and her stomach twisted. Maybe Anna was right; maybe she had made a mistake. Maybe she should have returned home with her sister, even if it was only for a few days. Anna needed her, and Arendelle needed her. Their needs always came before hers—that was the job, her responsibility.

Elsa brushed the pad of her thumb over the messy writing of the letter she held. Her eyes welled up again as she took in her sister's words, and she bit down hard on her lip.

_Come home soon._

_All my love,_

_Snowbug._

Elsa smiled. She'd given her sister the nickname so many years ago, when Anna was barely old enough to walk. She pressed her fingertips to her forehead, frowning as the treasured memory broke against a wave of vertigo. She blinked a few times to clear her vision and focused once more on the letter.

" _The letter was addressed to an Elsa, and until yesterday I was under the impression your name was Joan."_

She regretted giving Markkus a false name. It had served no real purpose and only delayed her getting Anna's letter. If she'd given him the correct name—

Elsa's frown deepened as she scanned the letter. She turned the paper over, but the other side was only blank, smooth parchment. Her fingers grew icy and she read through the letter one more time, paying attention to every word.

" _The letter was addressed to an Elsa."_

Except it wasn't. Her name was not written anywhere. In her letter, Anna referred to her only as 'sister' and 'Majesty.' In fact, Anna's name wasn't in the letter either; she signed it only as 'Snowbug.' Of course, there would be no reason to spell out who the letter was to or from because her ice dragon had carried it, and would have delivered it only to her or someone she trusted. She had sent her first letter to Anna too early into her confinement for that to be Markkus, but there was no one else in Hasvik that Elsa trusted.

A knock on the door startled Elsa, and she jumped. The door creaked open and a familiar red head popped in.

 _Ray._ Of course. She had trusted the young girl almost immediately.

"Morning," Ray said, smiling as she carried in the breakfast tray and set it on the nightstand. She hopped onto the foot of the bed.

Elsa looked down at the letter before shifting her gaze to the younger girl.

Ray frowned. "Is something wrong?"

"Maybe." Elsa fidgeted, reaching for the mug from the tray and taking a long sip of freshly brewed coffee. "Ray, this might sound like an odd question, but do you remember seeing a small dragon made of ice? Bearing a letter?" She tried not to wince, knowing how crazy it sounded.

Ray's eyes widened. Her gaze dropped to the parchment still clutched in Elsa's hands before bouncing back up.

It was all the confirmation that Elsa needed. "You did," she said, her heart thudding against her chest. "When?"

Ray ducked her head, tugging on the hem of her sleeve. In a clumsy rush, she said, "while you were in the room, the dragon flew into the window and then disappeared, leaving the letter behind. I was going to give it to you, I promise, but the guards that brought you back saw it first and said that Markkus would want to see it before you did, because even though you were training you were still a prisoner."

Elsa swallowed. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Markkus said I wasn't allowed to talk about it. That it would distract you from your training."

Suddenly, she was reminded just how young the girl was, and found herself unable to be upset with her. Ray had just been doing what she was told, by someone she believed she could trust.

But why would Markkus keep the letter? Why wait a week before giving it to her? What did Anna's letter say that he didn't want her to see at that time, but was okay with her seeing a few days ago?

_The Sirma._

Anna mentioned that the fighting had stopped only days after Elsa had first woken in Hasvik. The ongoing war between the Vindarr and Sirma was the only reason she hadn't put up a fight when Markkus said they would not release her. She doubted Markkus first learned of the ceasefire a few days ago—he was Vindarr's leader. Even if the news had been delayed, he still would have known long before he told her.

If the letter didn't contain either her or her sister's name, then Markkus had learned Anna's name from another source.

_Tyr._

Elsa slumped, feeling like the biggest fool. She couldn't believe she'd forgotten the man was still locked in the dungeon. Of course, Markkus would have asked Tyr about her. She hazily recalled the bruises on Tyr's face when she first woke in the dungeon. Markkus had known who she was right from the start. But he had feigned ignorance, pretending that the fighting was still going on. But why? To keep her in Hasvik? To keep her compliant?

She had known immediately that Markkus wanted something from her, but what he offered was something Elsa wanted so badly that she allowed herself to turn a blind eye to those red flags, the warnings and her instincts.

Now, she had pushed Anna away, told her Admiral to stand down, and ordered Captain Jogeir to escort Anna home. Her magic was blocked, and no one was coming for her. She was alone. She still trusted Ray, but Ray trusted Markkus.

Elsa drew in a slow, steadying breath. She was supposed to meet Markkus shortly for training, and she would confront him about this then. It was possible there was a perfectly reasonable explanation, though she was having a hard time thinking of one.

Even if he had an explanation, Elsa would request to return home. Markkus had told her she was free to leave at any time now, and she would see that he made good on his promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to say something, but I forgot what it was and once again you all will have to suffer the unknown with me. I hope you enjoy the latest chapter and thank you for your reviews. Stay safe and healthy and avoid opening long lost mummy tombs.


	35. One More Breath

Captain Jogeir was silent during the reminder of the ride back to camp, giving only brief responses to direct questions. Anna assumed he was mulling over the idea he mentioned if it got them closer to bring her sister home than she was more than happy to leave him to those thoughts. She, of course, had been in favor of dragging Elsa out of the Keep regardless of her opinion on the matter, and nearly did just that. It was only the Captain's intervention that stopped her.

Anna had been furious with the man, until he calmly and quietly explained to her it was clear Markkus wanted Elsa to stay, and Elsa herself wanted to stay. If they tried to remove her forcefully, they would be met with resistance from the Vindarr guards and soldiers. They were a group of one Princess, and two guards, it was a fight they would not win.

Walking away from Elsa, leaving her in Hasvik, was easily the hardest thing she'd ever done, and she sincerely hoped that life would never offer the chance to top it.

Jogeir's statement rekindled her hope that they could bring Elsa home. She was still scared for her sister, but felt lighter as they rode into what had once been the Sirma camp.

The moment they reached the command tent, Captain Jogeir called for a meeting, requesting the tent emptied but for a handful of specific people. They made official plans on a need-to-know basis, but when the Captain had Erik moved to another tent and kicked both Alarik and Kristoff out, her excitement and nervousness morphed into a whole new brand of anxiety.

In the tent were only Anna, Captain Jogeir, Admiral Naismith, and—to her surprise—the Royal Physician Malthe. The group sat around the large map table, a heavy silence weighing in the air.

"All right, Jogeir. You have the floor."

Jogeir folded his arms over his chest. "The Queen has decided to remain in Hasvik and seems very firm in her decision."

"She stated as much in her last letter," Naismith said, sighing. "But seeing as you emptied this tent before sharing that information, I assume there is more?"

He nodded. "The Queen orders are for us to return to Arendelle, and for you to stand down the Navy. But the Princess believes there is something wrong with Queen Elsa-"

Anna's head snapped up, being brought unexpectedly to the center of this meeting.

"-and after watching her in Hasvik," Jogeir continued, "I'm inclined to agree with her."

Malthe nodded, then turned to Anna. "Naismith mentioned that the Queen sounded _off_ in her first letter, as well."

Anna shifted uncomfortably but nodded. "She seemed really . . . compliant, in the letter. Just doing what she was told. Which, considering I can't even get Elsa to stop working late into the night, I'm not sure how someone she just met could convince her to remain a captive."

Malthe rubbed his chin. "I see. And when you were at Hasvik, what exactly seemed wrong?"

 _Everything._ Anna let her eyes fall shut as she replayed the conversation, the small hints and glaring tells she had noticed in her sister's behavior. "She seemed unfocused," she offered finally. "Like she was having a hard time concentrating."

Malthe shifted his gaze back to Jogeir. "That's not a lot to go off of."

"I know." Jogeir leaned forward in his seat, resting his forearms on the table. "But I have worked closely with the Queen for the last three years, and from what I saw in Hasvik, her words were not her own. At least, not entirely."

"But in those three years, you never knew she possessed magic, correct?"

Jogeir's jaw clenched. He sighed and shook his head.

"It's not that I don't believe you, Captain," Malthe breathed, "but the Queen spent thirteen years isolating herself from everyone, avoiding as much contact as she could. So much so that only seven people in the entire kingdom knew that she had magic." His gaze dropped to the tabletop as a look of regret crossing his features. "I'm not opposed to the idea, but are we sure we know the Queen well enough to make a decision like this? You know what will happen if we're wrong."

Anna watched as the two men went back and forth, her eyebrows furrowing, her hands folded tightly in her lap as she tried to figure out what exactly was going on. The conversation taking place was obviously serious, with heavy implications. Jogeir wouldn't have kicked everyone out of the tent if it wasn't, but the two men seemed to be speaking in riddles and vague suggestions that she was having issues deciphering. She hated to show her ignorance, but couldn't pretend to understand when she didn't. There was too much at stake. She held a hand in the air, halting the conversation. "What sort of idea or decision are we talking about?"

Jogeir and Malthe exchanged glances, a faint shadow of guilt crossing their faces.

Naismith finally broke the tension. "Captain Jogeir is suggesting that the Royal Physician declare the Queen to not be of sound mind," he said. "It would mean that her orders are invalid, and the rule would shift, temporarily, to the Queen's Regent."

"Oh," Anna breathed. She suddenly understood why Jogeir had asked everyone else to leave the tent. She didn't need her sister's education to comprehend the gravity of such a declaration. "What happens if we're wrong?" she asked, certain she already knew the answer.

"That would depend on the Queen and the council," the Admiral answered. "But this isn't a simple matter of going against orders. We'd be declaring Queen Elsa unfit, with no proof other than instinct, defying three separate direct orders. Then in order to remove her from Hasvik, would mean starting a war with people the Queen has essentially allied with." He gave a moment for his words to sink in. "If we do that and we are wrong about the Queen's state of mind . . . well, exile would be the best-case scenario. Ever for her sister."

"Even if we're right," Jogeir said, "we'll still have to justify our actions to the council."

Anna suddenly felt nauseous, her chest tight. She could hardly wrap her mind around what was being suggested, having a hard time believing that they had come to this. Having a conversation that she could never have imagined having. She rubbed her fingers against her temple. "Who is the Regent?"

The room grew silent once more, and Anna looked up to find all three men looking at her with curious expressions.

"What?"

"Your Highness," Jogeir said slowly, "you are the Queen's appointed Regent."

Anna jerked her head back. "Wait, what?" That couldn't be right; she may not know as many laws and rules as Elsa, but she was not ignorant. "I'm only eighteen," she protested. "The Regent has to be at least twenty-one years of age. The only reason Elsa could act as Regent was because of a decree Father wrote before . . . and even then, the council could have fought it."

"It is the same sort of decree your sister wrote shortly after the events of the Queen's Winter," the Admiral stated softly, "and much for the same reason your father did."

Anna was brought up short by the comment. For the same reason their father did? She had been under the impression that it was so Elsa could gain experience dealing with the council on her own. It wouldn't make sense for Elsa to do the same for her—which could only mean that Father had other reasons.

"It is a conversation for another time," the Admiral added, as though reading the questions on her face. "The important thing, Your Highness, is that ultimately, the decision is yours. If Malthe declares the Queen's judgement compromised, it will be on the word of yourself and Captain Jogeir. After that, our next move will be on your orders."

Anna's stomach fluttered. She knew she could trust the men in front of her, that they would never use any information against her or her sister in a harmful way, but at the same time she couldn't help but feel uneasy talking about Elsa in such a way.

"The decision shouldn't be made in haste, though we can't waste much time debating it." Malthe turned to Anna and Jogeir. "You both had a long trip and would benefit from a good night's rest. I think our best course of action right now is to take the night to think this through from every angle and come to an agreement tomorrow."

Naismith nodded. "Whatever choice you make," he said to Anna, "I think I speak for all of us when I say that we will follow you. We will do whatever it takes to protect you and the Queen. Even if it means protecting her from herself. But . . . " The word hung heavy in the air as he collected his thoughts. "We _must_ be sure and committed to whichever course of action we choose. We will not get the opportunity to change our minds."

Anna's stomach twisted painfully. She couldn't help thinking back to Malthe's question. Did any of them know Elsa well enough to make this sort of decision? To risk everything on a feeling? On _her_ instinct?

* * *

Anna wandered aimlessly through the camp, making sure to stick to the north side. Tucked against the mountains lining the southern end of the camp was the area the Sirma soldiers were being kept. When the Admiral first took the camp, there had been a heated debate over what to do with them. Eventually they sectioned off an area of the encampment to keep the soldiers until they could make a more permanent arrangement. An arrangement that would largely depend on what Elsa wished to do with the people who had kidnapped them both, then forced her to fight in their war.

For now, Anna kept her distance, trying not to think about the people who were ultimately the reason she was here instead of home, where she could be discovering new and entertaining ways to draw that frustrated but amused expression from her older sister. That one that always held a spark of mischief and promised some form of revenge.

Anna came to the outskirt of the camp and stopped, sighing heavily as she rubbed her gloved hands over her forearms and tried to stay warm in the face of a snowy night. Her mind continued to wander, drifting back to the earlier meeting, the gravity of the situation they were in. She was still having a hard time wrapping her head around what Jogeir was suggesting—what it meant for them, and for Elsa. In Arendelle's long history, no sitting monarch had ever been declared unable to execute the duties of their position. Even when Elsa had been suffering from a severe concussion, she'd still been able to perform her job, and when she had finally been relegated to bedrest and Anna had quietly stepped in to help, she still performed her role as Queen by proxy. Anna worried how such an action would impact her sister, if it would shake the people's confidence in their new Queen. If it would shake her confidence in herself.

She felt nauseous and wondered how her sister could make decisions that affected so many, and seem so calm and unbothered while doing it.

"Anna?"

She startled, twisting toward the voice. "Kristoff." She tried to smile, but knew it probably appeared more of a grimace. "Hey," she breathed.

Kristoff closed the distance between them, placing a hand on either of Anna's arms to rub some warmth back into them. "It's freezing out here. Is everything okay?"

"I'm fine," she replied automatically.

Kristoff raised an eyebrow. "You sound like Elsa."

Anna snorted. "I wish."

Kristoff's face twisted with disapproval, but he made no comment. He didn't have to; she already knew what he would say.

"Sorry," Anna said, sighing. "It's just . . . " She wasn't sure if she should tell Kristoff what they said in the meeting. If they went through with this plan, and things went sideways, she didn't want him taking the fall with the rest of them. Though, it would be nice to have someone to spend the rest of her days in exile with.

"You don't have to tell me what happened in the meeting," Kristoff said, like he could read her mind. "I know it's not really my business. In fact, this whole thing is so far over my head . . . " He rolled his lips against his teeth, then sighed. "But if you need someone to talk to . . . someone who's not an Admiral or Guard Captain, I'm here."

This time Anna smiled for real. Kristoff's presence and offer were like a balm for her frayed soul. She opened her mouth to thank him while declining, but reconsidered. Kristoff was good at viewing things from a logical standpoint, something he and Elsa had in common. Maybe that perspective was what she needed right now.

She looked around. "Not here." She wrapped her fingers around his arm and led him to a nearby hill that offered a raised view of both the camp and the river running along its base. It was private enough for them to talk freely while allowing an unobstructed view of anyone approaching. Anna lowered herself to the cold ground, her gaze drifting over the area, the mountains and star-filled sky. She wondered what Elsa was doing right now, if she was okay.

Kristoff's shoulder bumped hers as he joined Anna on the ground. He remained silent, allowing her time to gather her thoughts. A long moment passed, in which Anna allowed herself to simply draw comfort from his presence, before she finally let everything out.

She told him about the meeting, about her fears, the weight of the decision crushing her shoulders. It came out in a rush, much less eloquent and coherent than she had wanted, and when she finished, she just sat still, breathing deeply and staring at the flickering lights of the camp as she gave Kristoff time to process.

"I assume there's no way of going after her without . . . " He rolled his hand in the air, as uncomfortable as Anna at saying the actual words out loud. It felt too much like betrayal.

"Not really," she answered honestly. "No matter what we do, we are going against a direct order. It's that or leave her there, and hope Markkus is as trustworthy as Elsa seems to believe."

"You don't believe he's being honest?"

Anna shook her head. "There's something about him. Like someone trying too hard to."

Kristoff nodded. "And Elsa?"

Anna wrapped her arms around her legs, drawing them close to her. "I know something is wrong with her. Something is just . . . off."

"Then you have your answer already, don't you?"

"Sort of." Anna sighed, her shoulders slumping. "It's up to Malthe to decide if Elsa is compromised. But he would do so on mine and Jogeir's judgement, and I can't help but keep thinking—what if we're wrong? Elsa spent thirteen years hiding everything from _everyone_. Even with her magic now exposed to the world, she still spends more time hiding herself. Maybe not on purpose, but. . ."

"You don't think you know your sister well enough to tell?"

"Elsa can be the most stubborn person I have ever met," Anna said. "When she gets an idea in her head, she latches on tight, and it's almost impossible to dissuade her, especially when it comes to her magic. She seems to have this idea that if she doesn't have perfect control, then she is failing in her duty as Queen." Anna's breath hitched. She pressed shaky fingers against her forehead and tried to tamp down the frustration and worry that were threatening to drown her. "There is a lot riding on this one decision," she continued, forcing her voice to remain steady. "And, yeah, I'm scared that I don't know my sister well enough to make the correct one. What if we don't go after her and I'm wrong? She could be hurt or worse. If we do go after her, and I'm wrong . . . no matter how forgiving Elsa wants to be, it's treason."

"What does your gut tell you?"

Anna chewed the inside of her cheek. "That there is something wrong with my sister, and that Markkus is going to hurt her. But—"

"Anna." Kristoff turned to face her fully, his eyes locking on hers. "When Elsa froze Arendelle and fled up the North Mountain, your instinct told you to go after her."

Anna huffed. "And I pushed her into another panic attack, causing her to freeze my heart."

"You didn't know your sister very well then, but your instinct was still correct. Elsa didn't mean to hurt anyone, and you knew that."

Anna's lips twisted into a frown. "My instinct also told me I could trust Hans, and I remember that ending pretty poorly."

"Maybe it's that exact experience that is allowing you to see now what Elsa can't. That her overwhelming desire to control her magic is keeping her from seeing Markkus for who he really is." His gaze softened. "The same way your loneliness allowed Hans to manipulate you."

* * *

The night passed restlessly, as Anna turned over the conversation she had with Elsa, the meeting, and what Kristoff said until she finally drifted off into an equally restless sleep. When she woke the next morning, she still worried that she'd make the wrong decision, but felt committed to her choice.

There was a brief discussion over breakfast, Jogeir, Naismith, and Malthe all appeared to be in agreement. For better or for worse, Malthe declared the Queen temporarily compromised, and Anna gave Admiral Naismith the order to extract her by any means he felt necessary. They further agreed that it was in the best interest of all involved, including Elsa, to keep Malthe's diagnosis private, until he could assess the Queen himself and determine the level of influence Markkus had wielded over her. The only thing anyone needed to know was the Queen was being held in Hasvik, they were going after her and would bring her home.

Once the decision was made, the camp exploded into action as the soldiers prepared for a fight. Inside the command tent movements were less hurried, but no less calm. Anna stood in front of the large map table, surrounded by the three ship captains, Kristoff, Alarik, Jogeir, Admiral Naismith, and Malthe.

"Between Captain Alarik, and I, I'm fairly confident we can navigate the fog." Jogeir gestured toward the map. "The path seemed straightforward, though we'll have to take it slow. The fog breaks about a mile out from the island."

"We can put the Gambit in the lead," Lisbet added. "She's smaller than the Dagny or the Snow Squall, and it'll be easier for her to make last second heading adjustments. We can use a lantern to signal to the following ships."

Naismith folded his arms over his chest and dipped his chin sharply. "It's not ideal, but if we unload the cannons and keep the crew to a minimum, making the ship as light as possible, it could work." He turned his attention to Alarik and Jogeir. "What did you discover at Hasvik?"

Jogeir looked down at a rough sketch Alarik had drawn up soon after they returned to the camp. "Judging from the path we took from the harbor to where they're keeping the Queen, I believe she is in this main tower here." He tapped his finger against a spot on the map. "On the north side, a few floors up."

"What about the Keep itself? What kind of structure are we looking at?"

"An impressive one, clearly built to withstand attack and siege." Jogeir straightened, folding his arms over his chest. "There's a long path that leads from the harbor to the outer gates. It's narrow and exposed—attacking from there would be suicide. There's a beach on either side of the path, that would be a better option if not for the fact it would require scaling the cliffs. Which would leave us just as exposed."

"But like every good impenetrable stronghold, " Alarik said, "there's a chink in the armor, and this one has two. Along the western side of the beach is a cave entrance hidden among the rocks, that leads into a large courtyard. The courtyard is usually empty, except for one week every two months when the Vindarr hold an open market."

"And the last market?" Naismith asked.

"Two weeks ago. Which means it should be clear."

The Captain of the Dagny spoke up then. "You mentioned two weak points?"

Alarik nodded. "The other one is on the north side, a large opening in the wall that allows water into the Keep. It's like a man-made river that runs along the bottom level until it opens into a small lake."

The Admiral didn't seem satisfied. "Any idea how deep this river is?" he asked, frowning.

"Not deep enough for a ship," Alarik answered. "But perhaps a row boat. I didn't see the tunnel myself, only the lake, but from what I understand it's not very wide nor high. They use the lake for fishing, so it has to be deep enough to allow fish to move freely in and out of the area."

Captain Lisbet tilted her head. "That's some pretty sensitive information you managed to collect on your tour, Alarik."

Alarik lifted a shoulder, a grin spreading across his face. "What can I say? Some smooth talking, a light touch, and an open ear, and women turn to putty in my hands."

Lisbet rolled her eyes. "Okay, Don Juan."

Anna frowned thoughtfully. "The guard who escorted you around Hasvik," she said, speaking up for the first time since the meeting began. "Wasn't it some really big, muscle-bound guy?"

Lisbet's gaze snapped from Anna back to Alarik as the man's face turned bright red. "Alarik?"

"Look," he said, holding his hands in the air, "the details of how or who isn't really that important. The important thing is that I got the information."

"Of course." Gunnar sniggered. "So, what else did you and your buddy discuss on your tour of the dark, lonely corners of the Keep?"

"Don't be jealous just because you the last time you charmed someone, dinosaurs still roamed the earth."

"Funny-"

Naismith held up his hands, bringing the conversation to an abrupt halt. "I think we are getting off-topic."

A smile stretched across Lisbet's face. "I just have one more question." She leaned in, placing her hands on the table as she looked at Alarik. "Were you the big spoon or the little spoon?"

As the mood in the tent lightened considerably with the banter, Anna couldn't help the chuckle that escaped her lips as the other captains sniggered along.

"First off, there was no spooning. If there was, I have no shame in being the little spoon."

"All right," Naismith said, raising his voice. "That's enough. I'm not sure everyone here is mature enough for this conversation."

"I'm eighteen," Anna protested.

"Mm." The Admiral folded his arms over his chest. "I was talking about the captains, but it's also not an appropriate conversation for a lady, much less the Queen's sister."

Anna twisted her lips into a pout but made no further comment or complaint. The conversation shifted back to tactics and planning, most of which Anna only vaguely understood. Strategy and tactics had been one of those classes that had been only lightly touched on when she was growing up, and one she never had a genuine interest in. The meeting went on for some time, before a voice from the far side of the room interrupted the discussion.

"I would like to help."

Anna turned to find Erik standing next to the pole, a determined look on his face. They had moved him back into the command tent just before the meeting, as the Admiral claimed to feel better keeping the man where he could see him.

"I think you've done more than enough damage already," Jogeir said, narrowing his gaze.

"I know." Erik shifted, his own eyes dropping to his bound hands. "You wouldn't be in this situation if it wasn't for my brother's actions, and my inaction. I know I can't make up for those mistakes, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't try.

"How do we know you won't turn on us?" Jogeir persisted. "Use the battle to gain your own freedom?"

"I know you have no reason to trust me, but I will follow whatever plan you come up with. The Vindarr's magic will make them a tough opponent, but the Sirma are familiar with their tactics. We don't have ships, but we have fishing boats that could help lead the larger ships through the fog. Maybe even draw the Vindarr's attention away from your people."

Admiral Naismith pressed his lips into a thin line as he considered the offer, but ultimately shook his head. "Why? Why try to do something to help now?"

Erik smiled sadly. "All I wanted was to protect my brother and my people."

"You can't protect both your people and Tyr," Anna said, just loud enough to be heard. As she felt the eyes of the others in the tent on her, she shifted her shoulders and stepped toward Erik. "I know you want to protect your brother and, trust me, I understand. But Tyr kidnapped someone who has never and would never intentionally harm another living thing. One of the kindest and most caring people I know. He stole her from her home and used her like weapon in a war that we had nothing to do with. He forced her to use her magic to end lives. I know my sister, and I know that is something that she will carry with her forever." Anna took a deep breath, keeping her attention focused on Erik, needing him to understand. "What sort of mercy do you think he deserves? He kidnapped a Queen—what do you think the punishment for that should be? If he comes out of this alive, his only real options are life in prison or execution."

She drew her shoulders back and lifted her chin, channeling the confidence she often saw her older sister display when confronting someone. "Tyr has sealed his fate," she said firmly. Your inaction is inexcusable, but you still have a choice, Erik. You can either stand next to your brother and share his fate, or condemn him and his actions , help us in this battle, and maybe you'll give Elsa a reason to show you and your people mercy when the dust settles."

The silence in the room grew so thick that Anna was sure she could cut it with a knife. She watched Erik's face as he debated the options. She knew it wasn't an easy choice; despite Tyr's many horrifying mistakes, they were still brothers, and it was hard to turn your back on family. Especially when they were all you had left.

"You told me you would protect your people at any cost," Anna breathed as Erik's silence went on. "My sister paid the cost of your war. Now, it's your turn."

After another long silence, Erik finally gave his answer. "I'll need to address my people," he said shakily. "The soldiers here."

"How loyal are they to Tyr?" Gunnar asked. "Will they accept what you say, or will they resist?"

"My father was a brute prone to violence," Erik answered. "Tyr was only fractionally better. They followed him because he is my father's oldest son and in comparison, seemed better of the two. But in the short time he has been leader, he has lied to our people and committed crimes they are not aware of. He is the reason the Landvættir's blessing has left us. Once the people know that, and the truth about Queen Elsa's magic—that she didn't steal it, but was born with it—I believe they will follow willingly."

Satisfied with his answer, Admiral Naismith turned to Anna. "Your Highness?"

Anna rolled her lips against her teeth, wondering what Elsa would do in this situation, what decision she would make. Her sister had never been too proud to turn to those more knowledgeable than her, and Anna would follow her example. "I leave the decision to you. Admiral."

Admiral Naismith took a deep breath and turned to Erik. "Very well," he said. "But if any of my officers catch even the smallest hint that you may betray us. . ."

"You'll kill us all?" Erik offered a tense smile. "Probably fair."

Naismith narrowed his eyes at the man, then gestured to a guard to unchain him.

With Erik now at the table, the group started adjusting their battle plan and accounting for the increase in soldiers. The discussion lasted for well into the day, the sun beginning to set as they finished up. Alarik, Jogeir, and another guard escorted Erik to talk to his people, while the three captains went to make sure their crews and ships would be ready for the upcoming battle.

Anna waited in the tent until only she, Naismith, and Malthe remained. "Admiral Naismith."

The older man stopped, giving her his full attention. "Your Highness?"

She needed to request something, but the very thought of what she was about to ask turned her stomach and made her want to curl into a ball and cry. But she knew she had to make this request, this order. She had to protect her sister in any way she could. She took a deep breath, hoping to settle her nerves. "Elsa has been through enough," she said, "and not just in the last month. It feels like her entire life has been one sort of battle after another. I know she's strong—one of the toughest, most stubborn people I know. But . . ."

The Admiral waited patiently, his head tilted to the side. Malthe was still standing at the table, but Anna knew he was listening. She was okay with that; she trusted the man and knew he would understand.

"If you find Tyr at the Keep and he is still alive. . ." Her heart thudded painfully against her chest as she sent a silent plea to her parents not to judge her too harshly for what she was about to say. "I don't want the order for his execution to be another weight placed on Elsa's shoulders."

She knew from the expression on the Admiral's face that he understood exactly what she was asking.

* * *

Consciousness returned like a creeping storm, slowly and then all of a sudden. Pain crashed over her in a flash, searing through her head and down her spine like a raging forest fire, spreading until it had consumed every inch of her body.

Elsa pressed her head back against the pillow, trying to breathe through the haze of pain demanding her attention. It was all she could do not to panic, as she focused on just breathing. Her fingers curled around the blanket covering her body, as she distantly felt tendrils of frost crawl across the cloth. A faint pain in her left arm told her that the cuff was active and absorbing the magic as it reacted to her distress. She drew in a few shallow, shuddering breaths as she fought to settle her magic. It wasn't immediate, but in less time than it would have taken just a month ago, her magic calmed and the light from the cuff faded to a passive, dim glow.

She remained still as she waited for the aches and pounding in her head to shift to a manageable level. Once her head cleared enough to think, Elsa took stock.

Every muscle ached, an overall soreness that usually came from overexertion or illness. But those pains paled compared to the agony in her head, which felt like someone shattered it with a mallet, then tried to piece it back together with broken glass and acid.

Elsa tried to recall what had happened, why she felt this way, but her memory was frighteningly blank. She gritted her teeth, pressing her hands against the bed, and gingerly shifted until she could lay back against the headboard. The movement brought about a fresh flare of pain and she squeezed her eyes shut, breathing through it. Once the wave of pain receded, she peeled open her eyes.

She was in her room at Hasvik. A fire danced in the hearth, warming the dim room. A faint wash of light spilled in from the window, though she didn't know whether it was from a rising or setting sun. Elsa bit her lip and contemplated getting out of bed, trying to make sense of what could have happened to put her in such a state, but her body ached and just thinking about moving was exhausting. The gap in her memory was concerning, and even though thinking made her head hurt, she needed answers. She took a deep breath and prepared herself for the inevitable task of moving her limbs, but a knock on the door stopped her before she could move.

It was Ray, Elsa couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief, both from the familiar face of the girl who may have the answers she needed, and the knowledge that she would not have to get up to search for them.

Ray's eyes lit up. "You're awake!"

Elsa managed only a hoarse sound in response, the effort grating against her throat. She tried to clear it, but the air caught, sending her into a coughing fit that lit up the pain in several places. She flinched at the feel of a hand against her back, the cool rim of a cup pressed to her lips. The water was cool and refreshing, going to work immediately to soothe the fire in her throat. She settled back against the pillow, pressing her hand to her aching forehead.

She tried again to ask Ray what had happened to her, but all that came out was a wet, rock salt rasp, "wha?"

"Here, drink this first." The girl picked up a steaming mug from the laden tray she had brought in and set on the nightstand. "It'll help."

Elsa eyed the drink warily but took the cup. She sipped the hot liquid carefully, tasting mint. After only a few moments, the numbing effects of the tea went to work to further ease the pain in her throat.

"What do you remember?" Ray asked as she perched on the edge of the mattress. She wore a concerned frown, like she worried that Elsa might shatter into pieces at any moment.

Elsa pressed her lips together as she struggled to recall the slightest hint of what must have transpired, but once more, the harder she tried, the sharper the pain in her head grew. Finally, she pressed her palm against her head. "I don't—" Her voice croaked painfully, and she took another drink of the minty tea before trying again. "Waking up. Breakfast. Leaving the room. Then—nothing." She winced and cleared her throat.

Ray's frown deepened. "That was two days ago. You really don't remember anything that happened after that?"

Elsa's heart thud against her ribcage as the ground dropped from under her. She was missing two days? Her fingers curled around the cup; she could feel frost crawl across the cup and took a slow breath. "What happened?"

"You got hurt," Ray offered in a soft voice. "Markkus said there was a training accident, and you took a blast of magic in the courtyard. Then, knocked your head really hard on the way down. They had you in a private infirmary room for two days and wouldn't let me see you until this morning when they brought you back to your room. The apothecary said you're lucky to be alive."

Elsa stared down into her empty cup as she fought to calm the increasing pressure in her chest. "I don't—I don't remember any of that."

Ray reached forward and gently took the frosty mug from her hands. "The apothecary said that the blow to your head might cause some memory issues."

Elsa frowned. Something about the girl's words, the apothecary's warning, felt wrong. This wasn't the first blow she'd taken to the head; in fact, there was probably some cause for concern for the number of times she'd hit her head over the past few months. But that also meant that she was uncomfortably familiar with the unique brand of pain that came with a concussion. The hollow ache that twisted the stomach and left you feeling dizzy with the slightest movement. This . . . this was different. This felt as though someone had shoved multiple daggers through her skull and twisted deeply, the jagged edges catching painfully within her head. This was not a concussion. It also didn't account for why everything ached so badly, why even her jaw hurt like she had clenched her teeth for too long.

A blast of magic.

Markkus used lightning magic, and a strong enough hit could cause Elsa's muscles to seize, but that only left her with more questions than answers. To this point, they had focused their training on Elsa learning to connect with her magic through blocking light shocks. Why would he throw something so strong her way? Why would he keep Ray from seeing her?

Elsa remembered that she had planned on talking to Markkus about the letter from Anna and requesting to go home. She hazily recalled a conversation about the letter with Ray. Why would she and Markkus have even been training? Did he give her a believable reason for his deception and convince her to stay at Hasvik?

And even if he did, why couldn't she remember anything that took place after she left her room?

She pressed her palms against her eyes as the pain in her head increased to the point she could barely think straight. She pulled her knees up against her chest and curled in on herself, her breath cutting across her lips in stuttered pants.

A hand touched her shoulder. "Here."

Elsa cracked open her eyes enough to see a blurry cup in front of her face, containing a dark liquid.

"The apothecary said you'd probably be in a decent amount of pain," Ray said, "and that this would help with that."

Elsa hesitated. She hated taking anything medicinal under the best of circumstances, something that had put her at odds with her parents, her sister, and the physician on multiple occasions. But right now, her head felt like it was going to split in several places, making the concussion she received in her ice palace feel it had been a minor bump.

She wrapped her fingers around the cup, and the bitter, earthy smell of its contents turned her stomach.

"He said it would help dull the pain," Ray added encouragingly.

Elsa closed her eyes, exhaling through her nose before downing the contents. It tasted exactly as it smelled, but soon a warm fuzziness spread through her body, pushing the aches and pains away. She sighed in relief as her muscles relaxed and a not completely unpleasant buzz filled her head.

As the buzzing grew, she had just enough time to realize there was more than a painkiller in the brew. There was a strong, fast-acting sedative mixed in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I remember what I was going to say last time I posted. 
> 
> First: I'm going to slightly advance 1800s Arendelle's knowledge of medicine and mental health. Why? Because reasons that have nothing to do with anyone being seriously injured or stabbed through the chest. And it's easier to keep people from dying when your answer to everything isn't bleeding them out. And mental health because I'd like to not just brush that under the carpet. 
> 
> Second: I figured out what I'm going to do with the Frozen two storyline, it came to me while attempting to fall asleep. I'm pretty excited about it but it means this train is going off the cannon rails. Right about *points to outline* here. So all bets are off. ;P
> 
> There was something else. I got the Covid vaccine. Didn't gain any superpowers though, so slightly disappointed. 
> 
> Oh! NoriChan did an amazing drawing inspired by the conversation between Anna and Elsa and it's amazing.  
> https://twitter.com/Nova_41822/status/1350906613008252928  
> Also I sometimes try to post updates on twitter pertaining to writing, both original stuff and fanfiction. So feel free to follow if you like?


	36. Bishop takes Knight

Kristoff folded his arms over his chest, feeling the tension in the air. The camp was alive with activity; they were mere hours away from launch, from battle, and emotions were running high. Only moments ago, he had witnessed an intense argument between Anna, Admiral Naismith, and Captain Jogeir. The argument wasn't a surprise; in fact, it had only been a matter of time.

Anna didn't do well sitting on the sidelines, and was dead-set on going to Hasvik, to rescue her sister, to be a part of what was happening. The Admiral and Captain were equally dead-set on protecting her, on keeping her as far away from the fighting as they could. If something happened to Elsa, then Anna was all Arendelle had. Kristoff stayed out of it—it wasn't his business or his place. He was just a lowly ice harvester who had somehow gotten mixed up with people leagues above his station.

The disagreement went back and forth for a while, neither side willing to give any ground, until Captain Jogeir finally pulled an awkward play at emotional blackmail, and Anna reluctantly conceded. In that moment, it became curiously apparent to Kristoff that while the Admiral and the Captain had spent the last few years working closely with Elsa, attending regular meetings, and were familiar with her personality and habits. The same could not be said of their relationship with Anna. They didn't know her—not in the same way they knew their Queen. And why would they?

Any royal duties Anna had would have been given to her by the Queen, and until a few months ago, Elsa had been doing her best to limit her contact with everyone she could. That meant Anna wouldn't have attended any meetings with the advisors, and the only actual contact she would've had with them came from crossing paths in the halls of the castle, which Kristoff had no doubt happened occasionally.

He frowned. They might not know Anna that well, but he did. He waited until the two men walked away, leaving Anna alone. Her eyes fixed on the sailors loading items and preparing to depart, Kristoff joined her. He stood silently at her side for a few moments before asking, "Can I talk to you? Privately?"

Anna turned wide eyes toward him, then nodded slowly. They walked some distance away from the noise and activity until they found a quiet spot where no one would overhear them.

"What's wrong?" Anna asked.

Kristoff rubbed the back of his neck and sighed heavily. "Anna. . ." H tried to find the right words. "Look," he said finally, "things are going to get bad tonight. No matter how much firepower we have on our side, it's going to get violent, and messy. I just. . . I need you to be careful."

Anna huffed, throwing an arm toward the camp. "Well, seeing as I'm going to be here, tucked safely away . . ." She raised her eyebrows and folded her arms over her chest.

Kristoff narrowed his gaze at her. "Anna, I'm not one of your guards, and I'm not one of these soldiers. I watched you fight off wolves and climb the North Mountain just so you could 'talk to your sister'."

"I want to go," she admitted. "But Jogeir and Naismith won't let me."

Kristoff rolled his lips against his teeth, not sure he bought the story that Anna was going to stay behind at the encampment. "Do you remember when you twisted your ankle trying to climb a cliff? We thought Elsa was going to murder me for letting you get hurt."

"I remember."

"Do you know what Elsa said to me when I went to meet her?"

Anna shook her head. "She never said."

"I started apologizing to her for what had happened," Kristoff said. Already, Anna was listening with rapt attention. "She stopped me, saying that she was well aware of your nature. That no one actually lets you do anything. That once you decide on a course of action, nothing will stop you." He ducked his chin. "If you really plan on staying here in the camp where it is safe, that is great. Nothing would make me happier. But, Anna, can you honestly look me in the eye and tell me you aren't already forming a plan to get yourself onto one of those ships?"

Anna dropped her gaze to the ground, shifting uncomfortably. "I know what you're going to say—that I shouldn't go, that I will only get in the way but—"

"- but you feel you need to be there, I know. You wanna make things right. I wasn't going to try and stop you."

Anna's head snapped up, her eyes squinted.

"Elsa also told me you are all she has. Anna . . ." Kristoff stepped forward and took her small hands in his. "Outside of the rock trolls, I never had an actual family before I met you and your sister. You are also all I have, and I don't want to see anything happen to you. I know I'm not a soldier or a guard, And I'm not sure how good I'll be in a fight. But if you are going to sneak on a ship and go to Hasvik to protect your sister. . .well, I promised Elsa I would protect you. Let me do that. Just tell me what you need and promise not to leave me behind."

* * *

Few places made Alarik feel more comfortable, more at home, than the sea. Despite the underlying tension in their mission—that they were hours away from waging war on an isolated people to retrieve Arendelle's Queen—he felt calm. A chilly, salty spray crashed into the bow of the Snow Squall, peppering the boards around his feet with droplets. He could see the fog that surrounded Hasvik in the distance. As they drew closer, the ships would slow their speed to better navigate in the limited visibility.

The Gambit, a fitting name for the lead ship in this operation, was just ahead of them, leading the way through the fog along with a smaller sloop the Sirma had provided, and the Dagny in the formation's rear. The plan was for the sloop and the Gambit to approach the Keep from the southern side, while the Gambit fired on the wall and outer parts of the Keep and the Snow Squall and Dagny moved to the northern side to enter through the underground river. It would be a slow-moving operation, as there were a limited number of rowboats the ships could carry, but with focus on the south side of Hasvik, it should be enough. It had to be enough.

When they returned from Hasvik without the Queen, Alarik had known there would be a lengthy discussion over what to do next. But he hadn't expected Captain Jogeir to kick nearly everyone out of the tent. Glancing around at those permitted to stay, he knew that whatever they were discussing was sensitive. He was a soldier; he understood the term "need to know," but that didn't stop him from being curious or making guesses.

There were a few things he knew. That the Queen had ordered her sister to return to Arendelle, for the Admiral to stand down the Navy and await further orders. Instead, they were about to wage war with the Vindarr. They were defying direct orders from the Queen, but Alarik wasn't questioning the decision. He knew Anna wouldn't commit to such an act without good reason, and he agreed Markkus came off like a snake oil salesman. But defying orders, even for a good reason, meant there would be hell to pay once the dust settled. That, however, was a problem for those stationed above him to worry about, and something they could do when everyone was back safely in Arendelle.

Alarik looked over his shoulder to where the Admiral was talking with Captain Lisbet. Standing close by was Erik. It surprised him that the Admiral agreed to work with the Sirma, considering the role they had played in leading them to this point.

Alarik had listened as Erik delivered a speech to the Sirma soldiers. The man had done what he promised, disavowing Tyr's actions and crimes. The speech was genuine and sorrowful; he didn't order the soldiers to help Arendelle with the attack, he but asked for volunteers to help put right the wrongs Tyr committed. At first, the soldiers had looked unsure, so Erik went further, and explained the true origins of Elsa's powers. When he told his people that she had been born with them, rather than stealing or bargaining for them, nearly the entire Sirma force was suddenly willing to help wage war on the Vindarr, to rescue Arendelle's Queen.

The change in their demeanor had been so swift, it left Alarik feeling unbalanced. He knew the Sirma had a connection with the Landvættir, but they went from skeptical and unwilling to help, too ready to put their lives on the line solely based on the origins of the Queen's magic. He hadn't been able to shake the unsettled feeling and was eager to locate the Queen and put as much distance between her and the Sirma as possible. Maybe, once all this was over, he would ask Erik about it.

An icy nudge at the back of Alarik's leg pulled him from his thoughts, and he looked down to see Rune, the Queen's snow leopard. Kristoff was standing just a step behind her. Alarik reached down to pat the icy head, though he looked up at Kristoff. "I didn't expect to see you here."

Kristoff rubbed the back of his neck. "I wasn't going to come. I'm not a soldier, and the only combat experience I have is with wolves." After a moment, he added, "and one very large snow monster."

Alarik raised an eyebrow, but it was a question for another time. "What changed your mind?"

"I made a promise, and I plan to make good on it." The other man gestured over his shoulder to where the Admiral stood. "While you guys are fighting, I'm going to take Rune and use her to help locate Elsa . . . uh, Queen Elsa," he corrected with a wince.

Alarik wanted to go with him—locating the Queen was the top priority—but he had his own orders, and it made sense to send in a small team ahead of the main host. Kristoff and Rune would have an easier time slipping past the guards and soldiers, especially with many of them distracted by the attack happening on the southern side of the Keep.

Alarik gave the man a sharp nod, and Kristoff's gaze shifted, looking over his shoulder. He turned toward the front of the ship, seeing for himself the rapidly approaching curtain of fog. As the grey mist swallowed the Gambit, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm his nerves. Despite the impending battle, this was the most dangerous part. They were now sailing almost completely blind. If they hit a submerged rock or piece of detritus, they risked sinking an entire vessel and everyone onboard. With the thick fog, there would be little chance of rescue.

They sailed on through the fog; the ship slowing with each passing moment. Alarik could just barely make out the form of the Gambit ahead of them, who also appeared to be slowing considerably. He glanced over the side of the Squall at the water passing by, knowing they had to go slow, but also that the route was relatively straight. They were going much slower than they needed to and were still slowing further.

"Are we supposed to be going this slow?" Kristoff asked.

Alarik opened his mouth to answer, but saw a signal from the Gambit and heard a barked order from Lisbet to raise the mainsail. They were trying to catch the wind, to increase speed. That was when Alarik realized what was wrong.

There was no wind.

Not even a light breeze.

_Of course_ , Alarik thought. If the Vindarr could control the weather enough to create such a thick fog, there would be nothing to stop them from controlling the wind, ensuring that if anyone attempted to sail through the fog, they wouldn't make it without the ability to row. Arendelle's warships had no oars.

"This is a problem," Alarik said as the ship slowed to a stop. The water below them was calm, not even a ripple to push them forward.

"How big a problem?"

"Like, we could be stranded here until the end of our days sort of problem." The sloop had oars, but it was too small to pull the rest of the ships. They had the rowboats, and could ferry everyone back to land, but that meant abandoning the ships, and their only chance at rescuing Elsa. If they tried to approach Hasvik in rowboats, they wouldn't make it very far.

No wonder Markkus had been willing to allow them to come to Hasvik, why he agreed to allow Alarik a tour of the Keep.

One sailor signaled back to the Gambit to hold fast for the moment and await further orders. The Admiral was discussing options with Captain Jogeir and Lisbet, but Alarik had spent enough time at sea to know that when the wind died, the only thing you could do was wait for it to pick up again. It was the reason they equipped smaller ships that sailed in areas prone to losing winds with oars.

Frustrated, Alarik dragged a hand down his face, when a small blue glow caught his attention, and he turned to see a soft blue light bouncing in the air just off the ship's bow. "Uh . . ." He leaned toward Kristoff. "You're seeing this as well, right?"

Eyes wide, Kristoff silently nodded.

The light bounced in the air, moving closer. Rune let out a deep rumble, pushing between the two men and putting her giant paws on the taffrail. She stretched her neck, sniffing at the light.

"Admiral," Alarik called over his shoulder, but didn't know what else to say.

"What in gods' name is that?" The Admiral asked, drawing closer.

"It's a Landvættir," Erik breathed.

"I thought you said no one has seen the Landvættir in centuries?" Alarik turned to the Sirma with a narrowed gaze.

"Not outside the ritual, but there are descriptions of them in journals." Erik shrugged. "It's that, or a vivid, shared hallucination."

"Let's say this is one of your Landvættir," Naismith said, not taking his eyes off the glowing light. "What does it want? Is it—friendly?"

"I don't know," Erik said, shaking his head. "They've never just . . . appeared. I don't know how to communicate with it, or if we even can."

A loud whine from Rune interrupted their conversation, and she placed her head against the railing to look up at the spirit. The light bounced around before settling on Rune's nose.

"Are they. . .can Rune—"

The spirit suddenly shot down into the seawater below them, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared, cutting Alarik's inquiry short

Rune dropped onto the deck, sitting calmly, almost like she was waiting for something. Before anyone could question what had just happened, the Snow Squall jerked under their feet as a wave shoved them forward. At the same time, the sky opened overhead, dumping a heavy rain onto the deck.

Alarik looked forward through the mist and saw the fog thinning out enough to offer a view of what lie ahead of them. He could see that the Gambit had begun to move, and if he looked back, he expected the Dagny was moving as well, at the same steady pace.

"I'm not sure what just happened," Naismith said. He looked down at Rune, who seemed as unbothered by the events as a large cat could. "But I'm also not going to question it. Not if it gets us to Hasvik."

* * *

Markkus stood in front of the roaring fire, his eyes studying the dancing flames before him. He couldn't help but think back on the last conversation between him and the Queen of Arendelle.

_He knew something was wrong the_ _moment she_ _stepped_ _into the room_ _. Her_ _shoulders were drawn in_ _and her_ _hands clasped in front of her, fingers clenched tightly. Everything about her screamed confusion and fear_ _, but he_ _was relieved to_ _see_ _there didn't seem to be distrust in her eyes._ _And that_ _meant the blood clover was still doing_ _its_ _job._

_She didn't waste any time cutting to the chase, asking about the letter from her sister._

_Markkus silently cursed himself. He hadn't even realized that neither hers nor her sister's name had actually been in the letter. It was a rookie mistake._ _He sighed, knowing the best lies_ _were_ _steeped in truth. "I knew who you were from the start_ _," he admitted, "_ _and that you had a sister named Anna._ _I had_ _questioned Tyr about you before we_ _ever_ _met."_

_Elsa shook her head and_ _folded her arms around herself, her fingers twisting in_ _the material of_ _her top_ _._ _She was defensive, protecting herself_ _. He_ _would have to lure her out._

" _Why didn't tell me you knew who I was_ _?" she asked. "_ _Why pretend? And why did you keep the letter from me? Did you know the Sirma_ _had_ _stopped fighting almost immediately?"_

_Of course_ _,_ _he knew_ _;_ _their leader was in his dungeon,_ _and_ _their only_ _actual_ _weapon in his custody. The Sirma might be reckless_ _,_ _but they weren't stupid._ _Markkus_ _gestured for her to sit at the table next to the fire, the_ _same_ _one they had shared_ _several_ _meals at._ _When_ _she did so unquestioningly_ _, he smiled._ _He hadn't lost her yet._

_Markkus sat down across_ _from the woman and poured_ _a glass of water for each of them before speaking_ _._ _"You had spent weeks being held by Tyr_ _," he said, keeping his tone soft and slow, "_ _who I know is as short_ _-_ _tempered as he is prone to violence. I knew you were scared. I wanted to give you the chance to talk to me,_ _to_ _open up on your own terms." He_ _took_ _a drink of water, watching as Elsa did the same. "If pretending to be Joan of_ _nowhere_ _important made you feel safer_ _, then_ _I saw no reason to take that away."_

_Elsa chewed on her lower lip, looking down at the glass_ _. After_ _a long moment_ _,_ _she nodded_ _._ _"And the Sirma? You knew weeks ago that they had stopped fighting_ _,_ _yet pretended otherwise."_

_Markkus tapped a finger against the_ _side of his_ _glass_ _. He_ _didn't have a good answer for that,_ _and_ _wasn't sure he could come up with something on the spot that would be remotely convincing, so he didn't_ _even_ _try. They had doubled the dose of blood clover she was taking each morning, and it was clear she still_ _trusted_ _him, at least subconsciously. But that trust was now hanging by a thin thread,_ _and_ _the wrong lie,_ _or_ _the right truth_ _,_ _could break it completely._

_He knew allowing the Princess to visit her sister was going to cause problems,_ _but_ _he had_ _allowed it. Knowing if he denied the Princess's request, they would come in force to retrieve their Queen. He had_ _wanted to wait a few more days before_ _moving_ _on to the next phase of his plan_ _,_ _but time was running out_ _,_ _and the next step was_ _a_ _delicate_ _one._ _Luckily_ _,_ _the apothecary was already prepared._

_He finished his water and stood , holding a hand out to her. "Let me show you something."_

That had been three days ago. Markkus had known something went wrong when Elsa was taken back to her room. And when the apothecary hadn't reported it to him immediately, he had known it was something serious. But he didn't press the younger man, knowing he would come forward when he was ready. Markkus was a patient man and had waited a long time for someone like Elsa to come along. He could wait a day for a report.

It was just past nightfall when the apothecary finally let himself into the study. Markkus eyed him curiously, leaning back in his chair. "What happened?" He was patient, yes, but had little interest in beating around the bush.

The man sat heavily in the chair across from him, propping an elbow on the armrest and running a finger across his mouth. "She broke one of the cuffs," he said. "Three inches of solid ice, that hasn't even begun to melt, covers my workshop. I have frost burn from where my hands hit the ground, and the room is so cold you can't stand to be inside for more than a few minutes."

Markkus raised an eyebrow. "You didn't want her unconscious."

"And you don't want her a mindless thrall." The other man sighed heavily. "I needed her conscious so I could gauge her response to the spell and make sure it didn't become too much, as per your request."

"Well, judging by the now broken cuff, a feat I have never seen anyone accomplish, I'd say it became too much."

The apothecary shook his head. "The spell wasn't the problem," he said. "it was the pain it caused, that her resistance caused. If she stops fighting. . . she should be sedated right now. I thought it best to keep her so for the time being. We can increase the amount of blood clover she is receiving. It will lower her ability to fight."

"I don't want to give her too much," Markkus said, shaking his head. "The amount she is taking now will cause enough problems when she is eventually weaned off."

The apothecary tilted his head. "Then what do you want to do?"

Markkus debated his options, but before he had a chance to respond, a loud explosion sounded from outside. Immediately after, an impact shook the entire Keep.

He sighed. "Looks like we just ran out of time."

The apothecary looked past Markkus to the window behind him. "I wasn't able to complete the spell."

"The seeds have been planted. That will have to be enough. Besides . . . "Markkus thought about everything he'd learned of the young girl since she'd arrived at Hasvik, and the legends he'd heard over his long years. "I think I know what she is. But I need time to be sure." He stood. "Let her kingdom take her home. She can live in peace for a few years more, while those seeds take root. And eventually, when her magic grows too powerful for her to handle . . . she'll know who she can turn to."

"And the Vindarr?"

Markkus shrugged. "I have learned all I can from them." He opened a desk drawer and collected a few items as more cannon fire rocked the Keep walls. He pulled a crystal, glowing a soft yellow, from another drawer. A smile crossed his face.

The Apothecary raised an eyebrow. "What are you planning to do with that?"

"One last test for the Queen."

* * *

Elsa hovered in a warm grey fog, in a peaceful and blessedly dreamless sleep that could have lasted minutes, hours, or days. She was content to stay there in the comforting calm, with no one demanding her attention, no one asking her to fix any one of an infinite number of problems that they expected her to know the answer to.

Consciousness pulled at her slumbering mind, a thrill of warning that said she should wake up, but Elsa ignored it. She was so tired, just wanted to sleep, and allowed herself to sink deeper into the warmth. Then, a deafening explosion shattered her sanctuary.

Elsa's eyes snapped open, but she lay still, fighting through the cottony haze surrounding her mind, trying to discern what had woken her so abruptly. Another loud explosion reverberated through the air, the aftershocks shaking the walls of the Keep. Elsa sat up sharply, the world shifted nauseatingly as she turned toward her window. She squeezed her eyes shut and breathed harshly through her mouth as her vision took a moment to catch up with her movements.

When she blinked her eyes open everything looked foggy, hazy, like trying to view it through water. Elsa ignored the feeling and pulled her legs free from the blanket, stumbling to the window. She could see nothing but the rain beating against the window, and glimpses of the dark ocean rolling far below.

Another explosion, followed by another tremor.

_Cannon fire,_ her sluggish mind finally supplied. But who was attacking? And why?

Elsa made it halfway across the room before she had to stop, wrapping her fingers around the bedpost to steady herself. She pressed her palm against her forehead as her vision continued to swim. It took another painfully long moment before the events of the previous day caught up with her. She remembered waking up in a lot of pain; she remembered Ray and their brief conversation, and then . . .

She sucked in a breath. They'd given her a sedative. It was why she felt dizzy, like someone had stuffed her head full of cotton. She hated drugs, hated the way they made her feel. If she never took anything ever again, it would be too soon.

Another eruption of cannon fire caused Elsa to raise her head and try to focus. She briefly considered staying in her room; if someone was attacking the Keep, it might be safer to stay where she was expected to be. But she didn't know who was attacking, or why , and staying put wasn't going to provide any answers.

She took a deep breath and rubbed her palm against her eyes, then forced her heavy limbs to move toward the door, surprised when the knob turned easily in her hand. The door was usually locked when she was in the room. _For her protection,_ she'd been told, though she wasn't sure she believed them. Elsa pulled the door open, reacting with another jolt of surprise when she found the hallway empty. The guards normally stationed outside her door were gone, perhaps to help fend off the attackers.

Elsa followed the hall toward Markkus's office, keeping a hand on the wall to steady her wobbly movements. Each thunder of cannon fire worked to clear her head a bit more. She walked for some time; too much time. She was sure she'd been going the right way, but found herself on the outskirts of the Keep. She'd gone the wrong direction. Elsa cursed under her breath, blaming the drug that was messing with her head.

She looked around, hoping to spot something familiar to help her orient her position in the Keep, but hadn't been allowed to roam the structure freely. She recognized nothing around her; she was going to have to retrace her steps and try again.

The next round of cannon fire sounded frighting close, and Elsa jumped. She turned to a nearby window and saw the telltale spark of fire as another explosion tore into the Keep. Elsa quickly moved away, eager to put distance between her and where the cannons were firing Before she could take more than a few steps, she spotted something hurtlingly toward her from the corner of her eye.

Elsa squeezed her eyes shut and threw her hands up, knowing it would do little to protect herself, to stop the projectile. A familiar burn lanced through her left arm, followed by a loud _crunch._ When she felt no accompanying pain, she cracked her eyes open, shocked to find a cracked wall of ice in the hallway in front of her.

She looked down at her hands. The cuff on her left wrist still glowed light blue, but the one around her right wrist was dark, a large crack running through the center. The cuff had broken.

But how? When?

Elsa didn't have time to think any further on the strange circumstances. A sizeable piece of the corridor floor was ripped up and thrown at her. She gasped and threw her hands up again, this time reenforcing the wall. She winced as the large stone slammed against her ice. When she lowered her hands, bringing the wall down with them, a figure was standing in the hallway, a yellow crystal clenched in his fist.

"Tyr?" It took a moment for Elsa's foggy mind to catch up with what was going on, with what must have happened while she was sleeping, while cannon fire was exploding against the walls of the Keep. Tyr had gotten out of the dungeon. And gotten his hands on one of the Vindarr crystals.

He had magic.

"Your Majesty," Tyr said, bending in an exaggerated bow. "How fortuitous. I was hoping to see you again."

Elsa rolled her fingers into a tight fist, knowing there was no way Tyr was going to let her go. For whatever reason, the man seemed to loathe everything she was. If it came to it, the only way out was going to be to fight. Her gaze dropped to the crystal in his hand. "Where did you get that?" She winced as her voice came out in a painful croak. 

A smirk crossed the large man's face. "Markkus gave it to me," he said, lifting the item in question. "He let me go, too, on the condition that I use it to kill you first."

Elsa's eyes widened. "What?" She had to have misheard him. Regardless of what lies Markkus had told her, he had never once hurt her. Elsa shook her head. "You're lying. How did you get out of the dungeon?"

Tyr's smirk grew. "I told you not to trust him."

Elsa clenched her teeth. Tyr was lying, just trying to unsettle her and take her by surprise. She didn't honestly know whether she still trusted Markkus; her instinct told her not to, but there was no denying the pull she felt to him. Regardless, she couldn't believe the older man would just _release_ Tyr, hand him magic, and tell him to kill her. Nothing about it made sense.

Without warning, Tyr threw one arm back, ripping a chunk of stone from the wall and hurling it at her. Elsa dove out of the way, hitting the ground painfully against her shoulder and hip before rolling. Her vision swam as she pushed back to her feet, knowing the worst place for her to be right now was the floor. The stones beneath her feet shook as another rock came her way. She threw up both hands, forming an ice shield. The rock crashed into the shield, slamming her back into the wall.

Elsa twisted her hands, turning the cracked shield into a long ice spear and sending it Tyr's direction. He responded with another lifted chunk of rock, and the elements crashed into each other in an explosion of ice and stone, littering the floor with shattered fragments of both.

They repeated their attacks, meeting each other blow for blow. It was a stalemate, neither coming out on top—yet. Elsa knew she wouldn't be able to keep it up much longer; the more magic she created, the more the cuff drained and the quicker she tired. Whatever sedative they had given her was still in her system, slowing her reactions, her thinking. The only advantage she had was that Tyr was clearly inexperienced with his newfound power, still trying to figure out how the magic worked. Elsa had lived with her power her entire life.

"I can't believe I ever thought that _you_ were the weapon I needed to win a war," Tyr spat, stalking toward her.

Jaw clenched, her back pressed against the wall for support, Elsa thought about creating a snow monster. Even if she had the energy to do it, she couldn't concentrate long enough to create something so complicated. Instead, she slammed her foot onto the ground and sent ice shooting out in all directions, covering the floor.

"Is that the best you have?" Tyr scoffed. "An ice rink?"

Ignoring the taunt, Elsa twisted her hand upward, and spikes shot up from the slick ground. Tyr jumped back, but not before one of the ice spikes ripped into the side of his leg. The cut wasn't deep, but she took some satisfaction in knowing that it must hurt like hell.

Tyr snarled and made a fist, pulling the stone fragments from the floor up into an enormous chunk of jagged rock. When the rock sped toward her, Elsa reacted by throwing up the thickest ice wall she could manage, but instead of hitting the wall, the rock divided at the last moment and slammed to the ground on either side of her.

She only had a moment to question the action before the ground beneath her feet and the wall at her back disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I forgot to mention last time, if you want a visual of what Hasvik Keep looks like, look up GoT's Dragon Stone Keep. Do you all remember back in chapter 21 and 22 the water mage that got killed and his crystal broken. 
> 
> Anywho, I hope you all enjoy the story, don't forget to leave fruit tarts on your way out. Or wine. Maybe some cheese, and grapes. Mmmm . . .


	37. Queen takes Pawn

She landed hard on her back; the air leaving her lungs in a painful rush. Crumbing stone and broken wood rained down around her as, stunned and disorientated, Elsa curled into herself on instinct, throwing her arms up to protect her head from the larger pieces. A chunk of rock glanced off her left side, and a sharp pain ignited with the impact. She choked on a cry, curling her body even tighter. She remained still, breathing harshly through clenched teeth, as the debris settled around her, until there was nothing left to fall but dust and drops of chilly rain.

There was a concerning delay before her mind caught on that she was no longer inside the Keep. She hazily realized there must be a courtyard on the other side of the wall Tyr had taken out. She slowly uncurled herself, hissing as her tense muscles protested the movement, as hot pain spiked in her side. She propped herself up on an elbow and gingerly probed the spot. It was tender to the touch, and when she attempted to pull in a deep breath, an ache from deep inside had her biting down on her lip.

Elsa cursed, breathing shallowly as she pressed her hands against the wet stone and pushed herself upright. She knew she had to push through the pain and move, had to get to her feet before Tyr decided to join her in the courtyard. He might have dealt a solid blow, but she doubted the man was going to just leave her here and call it a day. He had proven himself to be a single-minded brute, with a vendetta against her she didn't quite understand. With one cuff still actively repressing and draining away her magic, Elsa didn't know how much she could do against another attack, and decided that getting some distance between them was going to be her best defense. Even if the man wasn't three times her size, she had no experience with any sort of real fighting and knew she would not survive in close quarters.

Elsa had barely managed to push up onto wobbly legs before she felt more than heard Tyr land a short distance away. She gasped and stumbled backwards, pain spiking again in her ribcage as she struggled to put space between them. She was dimly aware of the ice that cracked outward with each step against the debris-covered ground.

"So," Tyr drawled, lazily swinging a long-handled, wicked looking axe in one hand as he matched her step for step, "this is the power of the ice witch."

Elsa's fingers tensed at her sides, and spots danced in her vision as she continued to pull in fast, shallow breaths, in deference to the persistent ache in her side.

"I have to admit," Tyr continued, clearly savoring the moment, the fact he had her backed into a corner, "that when I first saw you on the battlefield, I was impressed, even jealous of the power you possessed. But now—" he inched closer, gaze dark and intense, like a predator toying with his prey before going in for the kill. "—now I see you for what you really are. What I always suspected."

The coarse stone outer wall of the Keep was suddenly at Elsa's back. Her head spun, and she forced herself to take deeper breaths, pushing through the pain so she could think clearly. "And what's that?" she asked, aiming to stall him as long as she could, though she didn't know what good it would do in the end. In the distance, she could still hear the muted boom of cannon fire. Somewhere, there were others in the Keep, foe to the Vindarr. She just didn't know what that meant for her.

"A spoiled child," Tyr spat, "who was given a gift you will never appreciate, and will never deserve." With his last word, he gripped the axe handle and sprung forward.

Elsa startled at the sudden attack, barely keeping her feet under her. She stomped against the broken stone beneath her, pushing her magic down through her feet into the ground. As Tyr drew closer, she twisted her hand and a dull, icy pillar rose from the debris, slamming into his rib cage and knocking him off balance. But Tyr was an experienced fighter, and he quickly regained his feet, moving again to close the distance between them.

Elsa's free hand tingled, but she hadn't realized she had created a weapon of her own until she caught the savage swing of Tyr's axe with an icy sword. The impact sent pain reverberating through both arms, causing her joints to ache. A crack appeared in the sword as Tyr used the advantage of his height and weight to press down. Elsa bit her lip until she tasted blood. An idea formed in her mind, but she knew immediately that she had only a slightly better chance at surviving what she was thinking than her current predicament.

Elsa released the sword with one hand and splayed her fingers wide, releasing a blast of icy, artic wind that echoed through the courtyard. Tyr was in the motion of bringing the axe down when he got caught in the blast and flew back, but not before the sharp blade skimmed across Elsa's shoulder, cutting a shallow but painful path through her flesh. Tyr crashed into the frozen pillar still standing behind him, and he crumpled to the ground hard on his side.

Elsa clenched her teeth, gripping the bleeding wound in her shoulder with an icy hand.

Tyr was already pushing back to his feet. There was a wide gash along his temple, and the shoulder of his shirt was torn. From across the courtyard, Elsa could see that the skin underneath was blistered red from where her magic had hit.

He inspected the spot for himself, then growled. "If you give up now, I will make your death quick, and mostly painless."

She didn't bother with an answer, not feeling the need to further irritate her sore throat on someone who merely liked the sound of his own voice. Instead, she mutely dropped her hand from her shoulder and squared her stance. This was a battle she might not win, but she would not go down without a fight.

Tyr returned her silence with a humorless smile, reaching a hand toward the surrounding rubble. "Nice and slow it is, then."

The stones flew across the courtyard, and Elsa reacted quickly. Ice and rock met in the middle, exploding once more against each other as Arendelle's Queen clashed with the Sirma leader, meeting each other blow for blow.

Then Tyr unexpectedly changed tactics, rushing toward her with a sudden explosion of speed. Elsa was once more caught off-guard, surprised how fast a man of his size could move. Her instincts screamed at her to move too, but she swallowed and stood her ground, waiting until the last possible moment to bring an ice wall up from the ground. Tyr crashed into it, shattering the wall, sending a dozen tiny iced spikes cutting through his clothing and skin.

Elsa tensed, preparing her sore body to jump back, but the man had expected the movement. She heard it as a stone tore free of the earth behind her and turned just in time to bring her arms up to block the attack. A large chunk of rock slammed through her protective barrier of ice and struck her forearm, hard, between her elbow and the cuff. There was a sickening crunch, an eruption of pain. She cried out, tucking her hurt arm close to her chest.

"I'm sorry, did that hurt?"

She tried to flex her fingers of her injured arm but found she couldn't move them and trying only increased the pain to nauseating levels. Her right arm was clearly broken, and the activate cuff still hampered the left. Elsa's chest tightened as she realized the use of her magic had just been severely limited. Her mind raced for some solution, some way out of this mess, but her concentration was split between the agony radiating along her arm and through her abused body, and the man in front of her.

She had stood still too long. A rock slammed into her abdomen, doubling her over, followed by another connecting with her chin. Elsa's jaw snapped shut with a painful click as it knocked her to the ground in a painful mess of limbs. She struggled to roll to her side, to get her one working hand under her and regain her feet, but a boot caught her in the ribs, forcing her to remain on her back. She wheezed, blinking back the spots crowding her vision, trying to recapture her breath. Grinning maniacally, Tyr pressed his boot against her cracked ribs, placing just enough pressure to create a pain she'd never felt.

Elsa gasped shallowly, struggling to continue to draw air around the increasing pressure. She could not afford to lose consciousness now; it would surely cost her life. She shakily reached up with her left hand and wrapped her fingers around Tyr's boot, but didn't have the strength left to dislodge him.

He knew it, too. His grin widened. "Let's play a game, shall we?"

"Go to hell," she forced through clenched teeth.

Tyr leaned his weight forward, and Elsa's head snapped back against the stone, her heels scraping across the wet stone.

"I wonder," he said, in a low, menacing tone, "how much pain can you handle? It's clear you aren't human, but you bleed like us." He slowly increased pressure, and her ribs bent bit by bit.

Elsa tried to scream, but the sound lodged in her throat. She scrambled to grasp for her magic, but couldn't reach it, blocked by the pain in her right arm and the cuff on her left. She tried pushing against the pain, the wall that blocked her magic, but the cuff only glowed brighter.

"You must think you're so special," Tyr continued "But where is your magic now? Your power? It looks to me like you're weak." He pressed harder still. "Seems like you're not better than the rest of us, after all."

There was a nauseating snap as her ribs finally gave under the pressure. Elsa's eyes blew wide, her body seizing under his boot. Through the deafening roar in her ears, she heard a soft crack of glass as an artic blast of ice and snow ripped through the courtyard.

* * *

Alarik dragged a hand down his face, wiping away a palmful of sweat and blood that he was fairly certain wasn't his as he blew out a harsh breath. He had known going in that this was going to be a hard fight, a brutal one. Arendelle had the advantage of numbers, but the Vindarr had magic on their side, and that was something they had no experience in fighting. The Sirma had been surprisingly helpful, willing to show the Arendelle soldiers how they dealt with the magic, with various runes etched into their blades and shields to help defuse the elements. That had been a completely unexpected, but welcome bit of information.

As soon as the Admiral found out about the weapons, there was an exchange of equipment between Sirma and Arendelle. They gave the soldiers who would run decoy normal weapons, as they weren't expected to engage in close combat. Those on the Dagny and the Squall were given the carved, runic weapons. They had another minor advantage going into battle—it was raining, hard. The downpour was making it difficult for the fire mages to summon their attack magic, something Alarik was eternally grateful for.

Alarik led his men into the Keep with the mission to find Markkus and detain him. It had been agreed upon that the man was to be kept alive for questioning, so that they could understand exactly what it was he had done to the Queen to convince her she wanted to stay in Hasvik.

They didn't get far before facing the first set of guards. The fight was quick, Alarik's men overwhelming the Vindarr with ease. It wasn't until they made it to the next floor up that they encountered the first bit of real resistance, the first mages. Then things got messy. The hallways of the Keep were wide, but not meant to contain a battle. The confined space left them easy targets for the mages. Like shooting fish in a barrel.

Forced to take cover around the corner, the Arendelle soldiers shot arrows at any opening. Frustrated, Alarik signaled to a few of his men to break off and see if they could find a way around to take the Vindarr from the other side. It took longer than he wanted, and he lost two men, but his group eventually flanked the Vindarr, and the runic shields from the Sirma allowed them to get close enough to take a few men out.

Alarik slammed his own shield into the torso of a mage baring a blue crystal, knocking him to the ground. He was bringing his sword down to deliver the fatal blow when a burst of wind slammed into him from the side. It threw him off-balance and into the wall, the side of his head cracking against the unyielding stone. Dazed, Alarik struggled to gather his wits and regain his feet, but he lost track of the fight. It was for just a moment, but it was long enough.

Before he could recover, a gush of water hit him, knocking him to the ground and carrying him down the hall. He spluttered and choked, reaching blindly for anything to grab hold of until he finally crashed into a crumbling wall. The water pinned him in place as it continued to push against him, threatening to drown him. Just when he was sure his lungs would burst, the water stilled, then receded. Alarik rolled onto his side, coughing up water and trying to catch his breath. Down the hall, he blearily noted the water mage who had attacked him lying dead at the feet of a Sirma soldier.

Tucking his hands under him, he pushed himself back to his feet. He grabbed his shield and sword from where they had landed on the ground, and as rejoined the fray.

He motioned to some of his men to follow him along a narrow passageway that ended in a stone stairwell. Behind them, the battle waged on, shouts and crashes and curses as the Arendelle and Sirma soldiers continued to fight, and distract the powerful Vindarr mages. Alarik clenched his jaw as he led the way up the stairs, trying not to think of those who would be lost. He had his orders—find Markkus. Without warning, a stone underfoot cracked, then the floor dropped out from beneath him entirely.

It was a brief fall to the level below, where he landed heavily on his shoulder and left side. Sore and winded, Alarik cursed under his breath, rotating his shoulder experimentally. He winced as the joint pulled painfully; there would be massive bruising there come morning, as well as all along his left side. Assuming he lived that long, of course. He looked around the area, hoping to spot anything that looked vaguely familiar from his brief tour of the place. But everything looked the same, every hallway resembling the last.

He took a steadying breath. There was nothing left to do but move forward and hope he met up with another group, if not his own men.

* * *

Anna's entire body thrummed with tension; her muscles tight. During the trip to the Keep she'd had to fight not pace around the ship to work out some of her nerves, not wanting to draw any attention to herself. She kept expecting someone to spot her, to give her away to the Admiral, or to Jogeir, though she knew she disguised herself well enough in the clothing of an Arendelle soldier to blend in with the actual soldiers now prowling the area.

A large, warm hand gripped her wrist, and for a moment Anna thought they had caught her. But when she turned, it was Kristoff standing at her side. He offered a small, reassuring smile, and Anna nodded sharply. As soon as the soldiers were all away, she, Kristoff, and Rune would make their way toward the Keep. Toward Elsa.

The moment the soldiers moved further into the Keep, swallowed by the darkness of the hallways, Anna took off in the opposite direction, slowing only long enough for Kristoff and Rune to catch up. She looked down at the large snow leopard. "Okay Rune," she said in a hushed voice, "do you think you can lead us to Elsa?"

The leopard tilted her head, then turned toward the dim hallways. Her ears twitched as she started down the corridor at a steady pace. They walked for a while, not speaking, until the silence grew to a painful pounding against Anna's ears. She looked at Kristoff from the corner of her eye and whispered, "thank you for coming."

He shrugged it off, like it wasn't even worth mentioning. "Aside from you, Elsa is the most kind and caring person I know. But," he added, "she still terrifies me."

Anna rolled her eyes, a hint of a smile pulling at her lips. "Elsa is not scary," she retorted. "And I am pretty sure you'd hurt her feelings if you told her she was."

Kristoff narrowed his gaze. "She's your older sister, and the Queen, _and_ has ice powers. I'm not honestly sure which of those things is scarier on its own. You mix all three together?" He gave an exaggerated shudder. "I'll just stay on her good side, thanks."

They continued to creep along the dim hallway behind Rune. Anna swallowed, knowing that while Kristoff had volunteered to join her, he was still here because of her. "Even if it means following her crazy, stubborn little sister into a dangerous battle?" she asked.

"Eh, it keeps life interesting."

Anna's chest loosened a bit, Kristoff's teasing helping to ease some tension. They walked in silence for a while longer, following Rune through twists and turns through the lower levels of the Keep. The snow leopard seemed sure of their path, and Anna fervently hoped she was leading them in the right direction. Above them were muted sounds of battle, sounds Anna wished she had no point of reference for, but now did.

* * *

The pressure on her side was suddenly gone, but at the moment, her entire existence was pain. Elsa couldn't even be sure she was still breathing, as her ribcage was alight with agony. Her broken arm ached fiercely, her face throbbed, and the cuts along her shoulder burned. Vision tunneling to a pinpoint of light, she moved on instinct, raising a trembling left arm to erect a protective ice wall in front of her, a barrier between her and Tyr.

She scooted back from the ice wall, her breath rattling painfully in her chest. When she could move no further, she curled around her broken ribs, unable to stop shaking, trying to catch her breath, but every inhale was pure agony. She sank down onto her side; her broken arm tucked against her chest and good arm wrapped around her middle. She rested her forehead against the cracked, ice-covered stone and attempted to just breathe.

She knew she didn't have much time; Tyr would break through the wall and continue his assault until one or both of them were dead. Elsa thought of her sister, how desperate Anna had been to convince her to return to Arendelle. She felt so stupid now for not listening to her. Even if Markkus had been on the level, she should have returned home with Anna when she had the chance. An entire kingdom was looking to her for guidance, and she couldn't let them down. She couldn't let her sister down.

Elsa shifted, her knuckles scraping against the rough stone as she wedged a hand under her. Anna had already lost enough, sacrificed enough. She wouldn't let her sister face a future alone, wouldn't drop the responsibility of ruling on Anna's shoulders, and that meant that Elsa was going to have to survive this fight.

She dragged in shallow breaths between clenched teeth as she dragged herself up, first to her knees, where she paused and tried to catch her breath, then to her unsteady feet. The world tilted and pitched as her body flared with pain. At least, between the pain and adrenaline, whatever sedative they'd given her was long out of her system.

Through the patter of rain, distant sounds of battle, and not-so-distant cannon fire, Elsa could hear faint movement on the other side of the ice wall. She pressed a palm against the ice, reinforcing it, and then she steeled herself, and waited.

At the first collision of earth against ice, she used the sound of the impact to judge Tyr's location, then forced her magic down through her left hand and into the wall. The ice shattered into hundreds of jagged pieces that raced through the air, all aimed for the Sirma leader.

Stone was hastily ripped from the ground in a desperate counterattack, and rock and ice collided, exploding on impact, causing debris to fly in all directions. Elsa ducked her head to protect her face as fragments left shallow cuts and scrapes across her clothes and exposed skin.

Once everything had settled, she raised her head, turned her gaze across the courtyard to where Tyr stood. He was hunched over, a hand pressed against his bleeding shoulder, a sizeable chunk of ice protruding from the muscle. Another, smaller piece lodged in his thigh.

Elsa's lip twitched in satisfaction. Not wanting to give him an opening to attack, she moved quickly, bringing her foot down onto the wet stone and sending a trail of ice across the space between them. Spikes exploded upwards as the ice reached Tyr, and the man barely moved out of the way. He stumbled backwards, no longer as sure on his feet as he had been only moments ago. He lifted his axe, and Elsa watched in surprise as he brought the blade down against the chunk of ice lodged in his shoulder, snapping it in half. With a snarl, he ripped free the shard in his thigh.

"So, the bitch has claws," he seethed, gaze narrowed. With his good hand, he swung his axe, the same cocky look resting on his face. "Impressive, but you made a huge mistake."

Elsa rolled her lips against her teeth, knowing he was baiting her. "And what is that?" she asked anyway.

"You should have killed me when you had the chance." With that, he launched a rapid succession of stones at her, stepping forward with each one and forcing her to scramble to block them.

Elsa was driven farther back as she worked to keep some distance between them, fighting to maintain her concentration. Allowing him to get too close could be the end of her.

Her hip hit the low wall at the edge of the courtyard, and without looking she knew what lay beyond was a steep drop to the ocean below. She attempted to slide along the wall toward the east side to avoid being cornered, but an enormous stone wall shot up from the ground and blocked her path. She stumbled back, and before she had a chance to recover, something struck her hard and fast from the other direction, snapping her head to the side. Elsa staggered, catching herself on the stone wall, blinking back stars as her mouth welled with blood.

A hand wrapped around her throat and she was jerked forward. When her vision focused, her face was so close to Tyr's, she could smell the blood on his breath. Elsa clawed at his hand, trying to dislodge his grip, and frost crawled across his arm. He turned and threw her like a rag doll. She landed in the middle of the courtyard, striking the ground with a jarring impact that echoed through her entire body and sent stars sparking across her tunneling vision.

"Tell me, witch," Tyr spat as he stalked toward her, "when you froze your kingdom, did it make you feel strong? Powerful? Knowing so many people would live or die depending on your whim."

Elsa pushed herself to her knees, puffing out as deep a breath as she could. She didn't try to stand, blinking back spots as she glared at Tyr. "That was an accident. I didn't mean for it to happen."

"Do you think that makes it better?" Tyr tilted his head as he circled her. "Like a child, playing with powers you can never understand. But I—I understand the power, the responsibility, and still I was denied magic by the spirits."

Elsa frowned as she rotated her head, trying to keep the man in her sights. "Is that what this is about? You're mad the Landvættir wouldn't give you magic? Seems pretty childish to me." The fingers of her left hand dug into her thigh as the world spun dizzyingly around her.

Tyr glared at her, then his boot slammed squarely into Elsa's chest and knocked her to the ground.

She felt it as something tear inside, and her back arched off the ground as she choked. She reached for her magic, trying to defend herself from further attack, but it slipped beyond her grasp. She was too tired, too drained. She had nothing left to give. She attempted to roll onto her side, but a kick to her stomach forced her onto her back. If she had anything left in her, she would have vomited. Instead, she could only gag, squeezing her eyes shut as hot tears leaked out.

"All that power at your fingertips, and you can't even save yourself." Tyr brought his foot down once more, this time onto her broken arm. "How does it feel to be at someone else's mercy? To know your life hangs on their whim?" He ground his heel against the broken bones, and Elsa could only manage a hoarse cry in response.

"It's a shame I can't take your magic like the Landvættir's. So much power, wasted. At least I can still do the world a favor in ridding it of your existence." Tyr lifted his chin. "Well, witch," he said, his tone eerily casual, "this has been fun. But I think it's time for the game to end." He lifted his axe in the air.

 _Anna, I'm sorry_. Elsa squeezed her eyes shut as the blade swung toward her. Instead of the expected burst of pain, she heard a fierce roar. Suddenly, the weight was gone from her arm, and a pained holler filled the air.

Elsa dragged her eyes open to see Rune, her teeth latched onto Tyr's arm as she dragged him back.

Elsa rolled onto her side, digging deep to find the energy to lift herself to her feet once more. Tyr growled as he struggled with the snow leopard. He summoned a chunk from the earth and slammed Rune against it. The large cat was knocked from his arm, and another large stone threw her back into a pile of rubble.

"Rune!" Elsa limped forward but stopped. She could feel it, that Rune would be okay. The wind had just been knocked out of her.

Tyr turned toward Elsa with hate burning in his eyes, his arm dripping with blood. Elsa turned toward him, summoning her last bit of strength as he twisted his hands in the air. She heard the stone behind her shifting as she sent an artic blast of ice at him. The blast hit him directly in the chest, as a piercing, fiery pain exploded in her side. The fresh agony lasted only a moment before it was quickly lost among the pain of her numerous injuries.

The noise of the distant battle, the feel of rain hitting her skin, all dissolved, everything falling away until there was nothing left but the two of them, caught in one final moment. Both Elsa and Tyr stood still, and for what seemed an eternity, nothing happened. Then, vaguely, she heard a crackle of ice.

Tendrils of frost raced outward from the center of Tyr's chest, where her blast had landed, snapping and cracking violently. Eyes blown wide, he stumbled back, his hand flying to his chest as if he could stop the spread with touch alone.

His panicked gaze locked onto Elsa's, and she couldn't help but feel sorry for him, couldn't help but wonder if Anna had worn the same panicked look in her eyes as she too froze to death. As the magic turned her blood to ice. Tyr's face twisted with pain, and in a last desperate attempt he stretched his hands toward Elsa, the wall behind her trembling violently as he attempted to bring it down on her, on them. She watched passively, too tired, too hurt, to do anything but duck her head and curl into a ball as the wall came tumbling down.

The noise was deafening, filling her ears and rattling her bones. Just before the rocks could crush her, the rain shifted, blowing with a hurricane force and colliding with the falling rubble, knocking the stones away from her. Elsa curled tighter as the wind whipped around her, pulling at her hair and clothes. When the rain and dust finally settled, she was surprised to find herself still alive. She dragged her head up, and her breath caught painfully as she spotted Tyr only a few feet away. The man was frozen solid, with chunks missing from his arms and torso where the falling rocks had struck. The gruesome sight turned her stomach, but she only had enough energy left to list to the side, struggling to keep breathing.

The rock to her right shifted as Rune pulled herself from the rubble. The leopard shook the dust from her icy fur and padded over to Elsa. A low whine rumbled in the cat's throat as she nosed Elsa's left side.

A shock of pain ripped through her. Elsa gasped, looking down to find a dark stain spreading across her rain-soaked clothing. It was blood; it was rapidly spreading across her tunic and leggings, from a deep cut that stretched around her back and reached halfway to her naval. She swallowed with difficulty, knowing the injury was serious, that it should worry her. Her head buzzed uncomfortably, and she couldn't seem to find the energy to care, to move. She just wanted to sleep and started listing to the side. Laying down sounded like a very attractive idea.

Her eyes had drifted shut when Rune nudged her again, another low whine rumbling through the cat. Elsa frowned and dragged her eyes open, found herself face to face with the same blue light that had haunted her dream. Her brow scrunched in confusion. She leaned heavily against her ice cat and stared at the spirit. Not speaking, not thinking. She just wanted to sleep.

The spirit frantically bounced up and down.

"I don't. . . I don't know what you want," she said breathlessly. "I can't . . ." She lost steam quickly, the world fading in and out of focus. She wanted to sink down toward the comforting grey, but the spirit wouldn't let her, making a sound like a high-pitched scream. Elsa jerked her head back, her eyes filling with hot tears. "I can't help you," she said desperately. She couldn't even help herself now.

Rune joined in, grasping Elsa's wrist gently in her mouth and tugging, urging her to get up.

"I can't . . ." But they wouldn't give up. She choked on a sob. "I don't . . ."

The spirit bobbed once more, coming closer.

A vision filled her mind. This time, Elsa could hear the water spirit speaking to her, a lost language echoing through her mind. She didn't recognize the words, but somehow still understood their meaning.

The spirit wanted her to break the Vindarr's crystals, wanted her to set the Landvættir free.

Elsa shook her head. "I can't," she insisted breathlessly. "I don't know how."

_Your soldiers are here. They have come for you. They will be killed without your help._

It took far longer than it should for her to process the words. When she did, Elsa frowned. Arendelle's navy—that's who was attacking the Vindarr. A sob tore from her abused throat as she dug the fingers of her good hand into Rune's fur, using the leopard as leverage to pull herself to her wobbly feet. She didn't know why Arendelle was attacking, but she knew she couldn't leave them to their fates, she couldn't let the Vindarr hurt her people any more than she could allow them to continue abusing the spirits for their own gain. One last thing she had to do, then she could sleep.

Elsa made it to her feet, agony she had never experienced ripping through her. The pain almost drove her back to the ground; it was only with the help of the spirit and Rune that she managed to stay on her feet. "What . . . do . . . I do?"

The answer rattled through her head. She needed to move closer to the battle, to the Vindarr mages, so she could get everyone with one shot. She leaned heavily against Rune as they made their way into the Keep. Once inside, she leaned against the wall, her bloody hand leaving trails across the stonework as she used it for support. She didn't know how long she trudged on: seconds, minutes, or hours. She couldn't think clearly with the pain thrumming through her, concentrating only on putting one foot in front of the other. Just when she thought she was going to pass out, the spirit bounced in front of her. She was close enough. Here would work.

Elsa closed her eyes, concentrating on her connection with the tiny spirit. She felt her mind slip away, following current of magic in the air. Suddenly, she could hear the other spirits, the trapped ones. She could feel their pain. It was overwhelming. Her magic built rapidly along her veins, pooling in her chest before finally exploding in a massive artic detonation.

The noise stopped, the spirits quiet and the connection lost. Elsa dragged her eyes open and blinked sluggishly, watching with muted disinterest as the world tipped onto its side and the floor rushed up to meet her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for reviewing, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Things happened, some of it is Chrissie's fault. 
> 
> Yes, Chrissie, it is, remember, the ribs? That was your suggestion. ;P


	38. Singularity

Anna hugged the cold stone wall as she moved along the dim corridor. Her heart was beating madly, but she forced herself to take the winding, frustratingly identical halls of Hasvik at a slow pace as she tried to figure out where Rune had run off to. Kristoff walked at her side, pressed protectively, but almost uncomfortably, close. They had just taken out a lone guard when the snow leopard stopped, ears perked, and whined low in her throat before taking off into the darkness. Anna and Kristoff had tried to follow, but after a handful of twists and turns they lost sight of her, and now had no idea what direction to continue in. That alone kept Anna from trying to run through the maze of Hasvik Keep, because there was only one thing—only one person—that could elicit such a response from the cat. Elsa.

Anna tried to convince herself that maybe Rune simply sensed Elsa nearby and got excited. The leopard's behavior didn't have to mean something was wrong, that something happened to her sister. But no matter how many times Anna repeated the words in her head, the sinking feeling in her gut told her time was running out. Every wrong turn they made, every dead end they had to backtrack from felt like a noose around her neck, getting tighter and tighter.

Anna let out a frustrated growl as they came to another intersection, identical to the last three they had encountered. She threw her hands out to her sides and turned in a circle. "This is hopeless. There's no telling where she could be. We don't even know if she's on this floor."

Kristoff reached out and squeezed Anna's shoulder. "We'll find her." He looked down the dark hallway. "We passed more than one staircase before Rune bolted, and she didn't seem interested in any of them."

Anna took a deep steadying breath then nodded. "Okay," she said. "Right." She squared her shoulders and looked around at their choice of paths. "Left, right, or straight?"

Kristoff rubbed his chin as he peered down each hall. "This one," he said, pointing to the left.

Anna frowned and shifted her weight, craning her neck to look down the dim passage, wondering if he saw something she had missed. "Why that one?"

Kristoff shrugged. "It's colder than the others?"

Anna nodded. She had no better reason to take another hallway, and it wasn't the worst idea she'd heard all day. They were far north, and everything here was draped with a pervasive cold, but if something was truly wrong, then Elsa would be radiating artic temperatures in waves. Anna gestured for him to lead the way, throwing a glance back at the other two paths, hoping they were making the right choice.

As they followed the hall, there was a noticeable dip in temperature the further they went. Anna felt a small bit of hope spark in her chest, but reminded herself that the cold could be a result of them moving further from the center of the keep and closer to its outer walls. They were approaching yet another intersection when the sharp clang of metal against metal echoed off the stone walls—there was fighting up ahead.

Anna threw a look over her shoulder, debating if they should just go back and try a different way. But without Rune, following the increasing cold seemed to be the only thing they had on their side, the only hint to where Elsa might be. She turned to Kristoff, but before she could get a word out, a Vindarr guard ran into view. The man stopped in his tracks when he spotted them, then immediately changed directions, heading toward them instead of his intended target.

Kristoff stepped in front of Anna, blocking an incoming blow with his own short sword. He turned as the swords hit, taking advantage of his larger bulk to slam a shoulder into the guard and knock him to the ground. Anna backed away as the man regained his feet with practiced ease, leaving his shield on the ground as he gripped his sword and launched another attack. Kristoff clumsily blocked the sword once more, trying to repeat the move that had dislodged the guard before, but the Vindarr was prepared, turning his body at just the right moment to cause Kristoff to overbalance. He hit the ground with a solid thud.

As the man lifted his sword to deliver a fatal blow, Anna slammed the discarded shield as hard as she could into the back of his head. The guard toppled over to the ground in an undignified lump.

Kristoff looked up at her, offered a breathless, "thanks."

Anna held out a hand to help him up in lieu of a response.

He took her hand and pulled himself to his feet. Together they turned toward the intersection in the hallway where the sounds of fighting had ceased. Anna and Kristoff exchanged a look, hefting their own weapons as they slowly creeped toward the corner. They had no way of knowing who had won the fight or what they were about to walk into. They cautiously peeked around the corner to see a man with his back turned toward them, picking something up off one of the fallen Sirma soldiers.

Anna's adrenaline was still pumping from the previous altercation and she felt ready to take on anyone standing between her and her sister. As the man straightened, she stepped in front of Kristoff and swung her shield toward him. The man turned and ducked just in time, narrowly avoiding getting his head bashed in. He stumbled back a step, arms windmilling.

"Whoa, hey!" Kristoff grabbed Anna's arm before she could try for another swing. "Anna, it's Alarik."

She blinked at the man. "Oh." Her cheeks burned as she lowered the shield. "Sorry."

Alarik steadied his balance, then looked up at his potential attacker. It took a second, but Anna could see the moment Alarik realized it wasn't a soldier that had almost taken his head off; his eyes widened with shock, then narrowed into a look Anna didn't quite have words for as he turned to Kristoff. "A promise to keep, huh?"

"I promised Elsa I would keep her sister safe," Kristoff said. "That's what I'm doing."

"She's not supposed to be here." Alarik sighed and wiped the blood from his blade before sheathing it.

" _She_ can hear you." Anna dropped a hand to her hip, keeping the shield held aloft in her other.

"My apologies," Alarik said with a slight tip of his chin, "but what the hell are you thinking?" His lips twisted, and he added, "Your Highness."

Anna frowned. "I'm thinking that I can do more here to help my sister then I could sitting back at the camp doing nothing."

Alarik shook his head, his expression grim. "I understand your need to help, believe me, I do, but gods forbid something happens to the Queen, then you—"

"I know," Anna bit off. She was well aware of what it would mean if something happened to Elsa, if something happened to both of them. But she wasn't Elsa, and, in this instance, she couldn't put duty before family. Something told her she needed to be here. "I have spent the last month and a half with people telling me I can't see my sister, with Elsa's life being put in danger to protect mine. Now I have a chance to help, to fix the problem _I_ caused. I will find her. I will bring her home. And nobody—not you, the admiral, nor Elsa—is going to stop me."

Alarik's eyes widened. He opened his mouth, then shut it with a click. "Very well." Then, surprisingly, he smiled. "What can I do to help?" His face fell into a frown as he looked around the area. "Wasn't Rune with you?"

Kristoff nodded, sheathing his own sword. "She bolted a bit ago, just took off running. We couldn't keep up and lost her in this maze."

"You think something happened to the Queen?" Alarik asked.

The bit of relief Anna had felt when Alarik didn't fight her on her being in Hasvik was quickly washed away under the reminder of Rune's sudden departure. She nodded mutely, her eyes fixed on her newly acquired shield.

Alarik rolled his lips against his teeth and nodded. "Okay, well, I just came from that direction—" he pointed behind him "—and didn't see anything indicating she might be that way."

"I say we keep sticking with the coldest path," Kristoff offered.

The three of them stood still for a few short moments before agreeing on the direction. They walked in silence, the air carrying a sense of tension, the sounds of not-so-distant cannon fire and battles above them echoing through the stonework.

Just when Anna thought her head might burst from the weight of the silence, Kristoff asked Alarik, "where are your men? Weren't you supposed to be going after Markkus?"

Anna rotated her head toward Alarik so she could both hear and see his answer, curious and eager to know that the shady man who had deceived her sister was in custody, or at least, would be soon.

Alarik nodded, rubbing at the back of his neck. "We were fighting our way through the upper levels when one of their earth mages caused the floor to crumble. I fell through, I think, two levels, and ended up separated from them. I was having little luck finding my way back to my men, but they'll continue to look for him without me." He glanced down at Anna. "As it is, I believe my services will be best served protecting the princess and finding Queen Elsa."

"Thank you," Anna said with a smile. She knew how bullheaded it was of her to come here, but also that there was nowhere else she would be right now.

Alarik chuckled. "Oh, don't thank me. When the Admiral finds out, I'm sure there will be hell to pay. And when your sister finds out . . ." He gave an exaggerated shiver and shook his head.

Anna winced. She hadn't thought about what would happen when Elsa found out she had willingly run headlong into a battle with only Kristoff and Rune for protection. Despite what she might have told Kristoff after the whole sprained ankle incident, Elsa hadn't let Anna off anywhere near as easy for trying something so reckless. She could only imagine her sister's reaction to this.

A shiver tore through her, one she felt all the way to her bones. It took a moment for Anna to realize that it wasn't the thought of Elsa's ire causing her to shiver, but the temperature. As they had turned the last corner, the air took on a frosty chill that screamed that Elsa was nearby.

Alarik laid a hand on her shoulder, keeping her from running off. "Careful," he said in a low voice. "We don't know who or what is nearby." He drew his sword, holding it steady in his hand. Kristoff did the same as Anna tightened her grip on the shield.

They crept down the hallway, Anna's heart hammering against her chest as she spotted spindles of frost coating the walls. They followed the frost until they came to a doorway, partially collapsed. Alarik held out a hand for the others to stand back as he peered outside. Beyond the doorway, rain was falling in heavy, icy sheets.

"Christ . . ." he whispered.

"What?" Anna asked, trying to see through the debris.

Alarik took a deep breath. "It's clear, but the Queen was definitely here." He gestured to Kristoff to help move a few rocks to clear a path. Once they made the gap big enough to fit through, Alarik went first, followed closely by Anna, who lifted her shield over her head in an effort to block the chilly rain. As her eyes adjusted to the ruins of the darkened area, she felt her breath freeze in her lungs. The space had clearly once been a large courtyard, but had become the epicenter of what could have only been a brutal battle.

Stone and ice lay in scattered wreckage on the ground. Pieces of embedded ice decorated the walls of the Keep, their sharp edges glittering faintly. At the center of the courtyard was the most disturbing sight—a man, frozen solid. Anna wrapped her free arm around herself, her fingers tightening around the strap of the shield as she dared to step closer to the figure. She felt nauseated from the thought of what it would have taken for Elsa to freeze someone's heart and turn them to ice, of what such an action would do to her sister, whether or not it was purposeful.

Anna could see that chunks were missing from the ice statue, as though something hard had slammed into him after he'd been frozen. She stopped just in front of the statue and gasped. "It's Tyr."

Kristoff crossed the courtyard to stand next to her. "I thought he was supposed to be in the dungeons."

"He must have gotten out after the fighting started," Alarik said from somewhere behind her, sounding distracted.

Anna squeezed her eyes shut. She had known in her heart that Tyr wouldn't survive this night, but she had desperately wanted to keep her sister from bearing the weight of his death. It would seem fate had a different plan for them. She took a deep breath, preparing herself to walk away, when a yellow glimmer caught her eye. A crystal hung from Tyr's neck, and for some reason, it hadn't frozen with the rest of him. She reached up and wrapped her fingers around the glowing yellow stone, and yanked, pulling it free from the ice.

Kristoff leaned over her. "Is that what I think it is?"

Anna gave no answer as she squinted at the crystal in her hand—a Vindarr crystal that held magic. Something odd and not entirely unpleasant thrummed beneath her skin, traveling up her arm and pooling in her chest like a warm jolt of electricity that was begging for some sort of release. Anna wondered if this was what magic felt like—if this was what Elsa felt all the time.

Before she could further explore the feeling, a torrent of blustery cold air swept through the courtyard, ice enveloping the small crystal. Without warning, it exploded into a thousand tiny shards. Anna yelped and jumped back, shaking her hand as pain bit through it.

"Anna!" Kristoff called. "Are you okay?"

Anna held her hand tight against her chest, wincing. "I think so."

"Let me see." He took her hand and carefully unfurled her fingers. Her palm was red where the crystal had sat, a minor burn already beginning to blister, and her skin was peppered with cuts from the crystal shards. "Looks painful," he said. "The cuts aren't too bad, but that burn will need to be cleaned and bandaged."

"It's fine," Anna protested, gently extracting her hand. Kristoff tilted his head and gave her a look. She sighed, rolling her eyes. "I don't mean it's fine like Elsa's 'it's fine.' I mean, there is nothing we can do right now, and it will be fine. The more pressing issue is that burst of . . . whatever, that definitely came from Elsa." She pointed over Kristoff's shoulder. "From that direction, I think."

Alarik came to a stop next to her looking in the direction she just pointed. "It's the only other way out of the courtyard."

Anna took one more look around the carnage of the courtyard, her pulse thudding painfully against her throat. "Let's go."

They moved out of the rain and back into the relatively warm, dry comfort of the Keep. Anna shook the water from her shield as she lowered it to her side.

"Left, or right?" Kristoff asked as they looked down the hallway.

Anna bit her lip, following his gaze. She was about to offer a suggestion, but noticed a smear on the wall leading back toward the center of the Keep. She stepped closer and felt her heart seize. "Guys." She pointed at the smear. "Is this blood?"

Alarik and Kristoff followed her gaze. She didn't need them to answer; the looks on their face was confirmation enough. She swallowed thickly and picked up her pace until she was nearly running. The others followed her lead and hurried down the hall. There were more red stains along the stone for a few turns, and then Anna took a corner and spotted something that filled her with just as much relief as it did dread.

It was Rune.

The giant cat heard their approach and lifted her head from where it had been resting on something Anna couldn't quite make out. As she moved closer, she could see a shock of muddy blonde hair pooled across the dark stone. Elsa was lying on her side, her back to them. She took off toward her huddled sister at an all-out sprint, her heart lodged in her throat, no longer caring if anyone was around who might hear them. She dropped the shield as she ran and crashed to her knees at her sister's side. "Elsa!"

Her hands fluttered uselessly around Elsa's shoulders, but she was too afraid to touch, fearful her sister would shatter within her clumsy fingers like delicate glass. Elsa's cheek was swollen and vividly red, with matching marks wrapped around her neck. Both were sure to be horribly darkened with bruising by morning. Superficial cuts marred the pale skin of her face and neck and shoulder, and her right forearm had an unnatural bend in it. There was blood everywhere, dark and ominous, dried bits under her nose and across her lips, a larger, still-wet patch at her shoulder, and splatters all over her clothing. Anna had no way of knowing whether all of it was Elsa's, which was terrifying in its own right, but the most worrisome sight was the large patch of deep crimson still spreading from the spot where Rune's heavy leg rested. The snow leopard looked like she had positioned herself that way on purpose, like she was keeping pressure on a serious injury. Beneath the blood, Elsa was so pale and still, Anna feared the worst.

As Anna took in her sister's multiple injuries, she couldn't help but think back on the state of the courtyard, the horrific sight of Tyr standing at the center, frozen solid with a hand to his chest, his face twisted in shock and pain. Some part of her was glad for it, a hot little flare of satisfied anger in her chest. Elsa had done that to him, whether reflexively or with full intent, but he had more than earned it. Anna couldn't have ever imagined seeing her strong, graceful, proud older sister looking so beaten and vulnerable, couldn't have ever imagined feeling this helpless.

Elsa would be okay. She had to be okay. After all this time, Anna couldn't accept anything else. This was not supposed to be how they reunited; they were both supposed to make it to the other side of this.

Anna didn't even realize she had started crying until the tear track burned cold against her cheek, the moisture chilled by her proximity to Elsa. She swallowed back the emotion then, reaching out trembling fingers to cup Elsa's face, feeling her pulse thundering against her palm. Normally, that would be a good sign, but she knew something about it was very wrong.

Anna brushed the rain-soaked bangs away from her sister's face. "Elsa? Come on, I need you to wake up." She swiped the pad of her thumb across Elsa's cold cheek. "Elsa, please. Wake up." Distantly, she heard Alarik and Kristoff join her at Elsa's side.

Kristoff crouched down next to her. "Shit," he muttered, his eyes quickly taking in Elsa's battered form. He leaned forward and nudged at Rune's leg, trying to get a look at what the large ice cat was covering. She shifted just enough that Anna could see the ragged edges of torn skin before blood started bubbling up over.

Kristoff quickly pressed Rune's blood-stained leg back over the wound. "Okay, we're going to need something to stop the bleeding before we can even think about moving her." He stood up, looking down the hallway. Anna followed his gaze and saw that not far from them stood multiple doors. "Alarik," Kristoff said, "help me find towels or linens, anything we can cut into bandages." He looked down at Elsa then added, "and a blanket, if you can. Anna, you stay here, see if you can wake her. She might be confused if she does, so try to keep her calm and still."

Anna nodded numbly as the two men moved away, and her sluggish gaze drifting from Elsa's face down to her arm. She tilted her head. The cuff wasn't glowing. She looked to Elsa's other wrist, and saw that the crystal there had been broken, too. The stones on both cuffs looked as though they'd been shattered from the inside out. Anna added it to the growing list of things she didn't understand and wasn't sure she wanted to.

She moved her hands back to her sister's face, trying to wake her, tapping on the swelling of her cheek, hoping to elicit any type of response, even pain. She thought Elsa flinched, but it was so subtle she couldn't be sure it wasn't just wishful thinking.

"Okay," Kristoff said as he knelt back down next to Anna, arms laden with cloths and some broken pieces of wood.

Anna raised an eyebrow pointedly at the objects.

"For her arm," he said simply, in response to her unasked question. He turned to Alarik and handed him a sheet. "Fold this up into a thick square. We'll use it against the wound." He took a knife from his boot and started tearing another sheet into thick strips. Once that was finished, he looked up. "When I say, Rune, I'm going to need you to move. Alarik, you place pressure, like a lot of pressure, on the wound. I'll wrap it and stabilize it. Anna, if you can lift her up just enough so I can wrap the cloth around her waist?" He took a deep breath, then looked at each of them. "Ready?"

Anna shifted so she was positioned at Elsa's head, ready to lift her up onto her lap.

"Go." Rune moved back away from Elsa, and Alarik quickly leaned forward. In that brief moment, Anna got a clear look at the wound the snow leopard had been putting pressure on, and she nearly gagged. It was so much worse than she first imagined. She turned her face away, feeling faint from the sight of her sister's blood spilling past the rough edges of torn skin.

Alarik immediately pressed the thick folded cloth over the large wound and wrapped his hands around her back, using his weight to press down.

Elsa suddenly gasped, her eyes flying open before squeezing tight. "Sto . . ." Her legs shifted across the ground as she attempted to curl around the pain.

"Elsa?" Anna brushed her good hand over her sister's bangs, hoping to soothe her distress.

"Sto . . . Elsa turned her head, lifting a hand to push clumsily at Alarik's. Anna quickly wrapped her fingers around her wrist and trapped the hand against her chest as Kristoff started tightly dressing the wound. Elsa whimpered, the sides of her feet skipping across the rough stone.

"Shh, you're okay." Anna brushed her fingers through Elsa's damp hair. "We got you. You're going to be okay."

Elsa rolled her head reflexively against Anna's lap. It was clear she didn't understand what was going on and was only responding to the pain. Anna angrily swiped at a tear trailing down her cheek. She couldn't start crying again; she needed to be strong for her sister. Her fingers continued to move rhythmically through Elsa's hair, trying to keep the distraught woman calm so she didn't hurt herself further.

Kristoff tied off the cloth over the wound and Elsa whimpered again, pressing her forehead against Anna's leg. "It's okay," Anna assured her. "They're done. You're okay."

Kristoff sat back on his heels, looking far more tired and exhausted then Anna had ever seen him. She suddenly remembered what he had told her back at the camp, that both she _and_ Elsa were like family to him. She hadn't known Kristoff long, but knew he didn't use that word, _family_ , lightly. She understood the weight that it held for him and felt all the more grateful for his presence here.

"Let me look at her arm," Kristoff said. "If we're lucky, maybe we can just wrap it and leave it for the doctor." He reached down, gently wrapping one hand around her elbow and the other in the small space between her hand and the inert cuff.

Elsa's fingers looked swollen, an almost purplish hue to them.

Kristoff shook his head. "We're gonna have to set her arm."

Anna blanched. She had no idea what that entailed, but doubted it was going to be easy, or painless.

"Are you sure?" Alarik asked, as if reading Anna's mind.

Kristoff nodded. "I've seen broken bones before, up in the mountains. Her hand is turning colors, and there's no pulse in her wrist. I think the break is cutting off circulation. If we don't set it, she . . ." He hesitated. "She could lose her hand if we don't return circulation."

Anna felt sick to her stomach. "What do you need?" She tried to keep her voice steady, but there was no denying the small quiver.

"Let's shift her onto her back," Kristoff said. "Slide the blanket under her so we don't have to move her much after."

Alarik did as he said, spreading the blanket down along her side, tucking what he could under Elsa, then carefully rolled her onto her back. Elsa clenched her jaw, wincing at every movement, but was no longer fighting them. They drew the sheet from beneath her on the other side and settled her back against the ground.

"Okay," Kristoff said, looking down at Elsa's half-lidded eyes. He took another deep breath. "Anna," he started, looking back up at her, "this is going to hurt, a lot. I'm going to need you to hold her tight, try to keep her calm and as still as possible. Alarik, trade me sides, and hold her arm just above the elbow. Don't let her pull away. Once the bone is set, we don't want to have to do it a second time."

Anna lifted her sister, scooting under Elsa so that her sister's head and shoulders rested against her legs. Kristoff took a moment to lay out the items he needed.

"You have done this before, right?" Alarik asked as he settled down next to Anna, wrapping his fingers around Elsa's upper arm.

"Sure, a few times. Of course, they were all giant ice harvesters. No real difference, I think, just . . . smaller." Kristoff then grabbed Elsa's wrist firmly with one hand, positioning the other just above the break. "Ready? One, two, three." He pulled hard, and the bone cracked back into place with a nauseating sound Anna was certain she'd never forget.

Elsa arched her back, releasing a raw scream that ended in a faint whimper.

Anna pressed on her shoulders, trying to keep her sister still. "It's okay," she whispered, her voice thick with unshed tears. "Shhh, shhh, I know it hurt, but you're okay now."

But Elsa was beyond listening. She dug her heels against the ground and tried to shove herself up, away from the pain. Her breathing was sharp and erratic, bordering on hyperventilating, as tears leaked from behind her tightly clenched eyelids. She tried to pull her arm away from Kristoff and Alarik, but they both held firm, waiting for her to stop struggling before splinting her arm. Elsa quickly lost steam, falling back against Anna, shaking badly. Kristoff and Alarik went to work on splinting her arm as Anna continued to whisper soft reassurances, anything she thought would help her sister.

Finally, Kristoff settled Elsa's broken wrist against her chest, using a large piece of cloth to lash the appendage there so that she couldn't move it. "All right." He moved the blanket, bundling up the queen. He tucked his hands under Elsa's back and legs, carefully lifting her up from the ground.

Elsa made no sound as he shifted her in his arms, and Anna could only assume she had slipped back into unconsciousness. She just couldn't decide if that was a good thing or not.

Anna bent to pick up her shield, finding some odd comfort in holding the defensive weapon. "We need to get her back to the ship," she said. "So Malthe can treat her." She turned down the dark hallway, hoping that finding their way out would be easier than finding their way in.


	39. Dying Light

Anna woke with a start, disoriented and chilled. When her eyes adjusted to the dimness, she saw unfamiliar stone walls, a narrow window that allowed a sliver of grey light into the room. She didn't know what had woken her, but something certainly felt. . . off.

She pushed herself upright in bed, digging a palm into her sleep-encrusted eyes. She hissed and pulled the hand back, squinted at the bandage wrapped around her palm. It struck her then, what felt so wrong.

Elsa.

Just that morning she, Alarik, Kristoff, and Rune had hurried through the dim hallways of Hasvik Keep, searching for the path that would lead them to the waiting Arendellian ships. To Malthe, who had joined them on their mission and had been standing by "just in case." Anna had hoped at the time it would turn out to be an unnecessary precaution.

It did not.

As they had moved through the Keep, Anna kept shooting looks at Kristoff. More specifically, at the unmoving bundle in his arms. Her heart thumped painfully within in her chest as each moment passed with no sign of movement from her sister. Several times, she had to assure herself that Elsa was still breathing, however shallowly. That she hadn't — each time, Anna bit down on her lip and looked away, unable to finish the thought. Unable to _allow_ herself to finish the thought.

Alarik led the way through the halls, his sword at the ready, in case they encountered any resistance. Anna kept pace with Kristoff, unwilling to move outside of arm's reach of Elsa, keeping a white-knuckled hold on her shield, ready to protect her sister at all cost.

Assuming they were moving the right direction, they had been making good time when they heard clamoring ahead, unseen just around the corner. The three of them slowed to a stop, trading looks. With a silent agreement, Alarik moved slowly toward the intersection, and Anna held her breath as he peeked around the corner. Her heart skipped when he lowered his sword, his shoulders slumping.

"Sir," Alarik said breathlessly.

The Admiral turned the corner, coming into view. "Captain," he returned.

Anna felt dizzy with relief. They were going to be okay. Naismith wouldn't let anything happen to Elsa, and he would know the way back to the ship.

The older man's gaze drifted over the group, pausing on Anna for a moment before locking onto the bundle in Kristoff's arms. "Please tell me that's not—"

"It's the Queen," Alarik answered. "She's badly wounded. I'm not—" he stopped, his eyes flitting to Anna then back to Naismith. "We need to get her back to the ship so Malthe can—"

Admiral Naismith shook his head before Alarik could finish. "He's not on the ship." He turned toward the soldiers standing with him and sent one ahead. The man took off at a sprint, and Naismith directed the rest to continue without him, then started back the way he'd come. "Malthe set up a medical ward just two floors up," he explained as the others followed his hurried steps.

Kristoff blinked. "Is that safe with the fighting going on?"

"The Vindarr surrendered," the Admiral said.

Anna's head snapped up, her eyes widening. She hadn't been expecting to hear that. She knew going in that even with the Sirma's help and the larger Arendelle force, the Vindarr mages had the advantage. Because of that, they had never made a plan to hold the Keep, only to hold off the Vindarr long enough to get Elsa, hopefully get Markkus, and get out.

The group had moved rapidly through the hallways, Naismith turning a corner and heading up a set of stairs as he led them up to the next level. They hurried down the hallway, and it wasn't long before she saw Malthe heading in their direction. He stopped, visibly shaken by the sight of them, but recovered quickly, gesturing toward Kristoff to follow him. "How is she?"

"Her right arm is broken," Kristoff answered breathlessly, struggling to keep pace with the much older man, weighed by more than just his visible burden. "There's a large gash on her left side that was bleeding heavily. She was awake for a bit, but never really lucid. She didn't seem to understand what was happening and lost consciousness shortly after. She hasn't moved since."

Malthe nodded sharply. He stopped in front of a room, pushing the door open. "In here." He paused to give orders to the soldier Naismith had sent ahead of them, Listing items the doctor needed to care for the wounded Queen. Anna tried to follow him into the room, but Malthe stopped her with sympathetic eyes and an apology, then swiftly ducked inside and closed the door.

Anna had stared door, taking some minor comfort in the knowledge that Kristoff was inside helping the doctor, along with another medic. She knew Kristoff had been allowed to stay only because the ice harvester had more than a basic understanding of medicine, having to learn it to survive in the mountains, but she couldn't help the sliver of jealousy she felt, that he was in there while she was regulated to waiting in the hallway. Once again, there was a door standing between her and her sister. Rune sat in front of the door, her snowy white head tilted like she didn't understand why she wasn't allowed in the room.

"Sir." Alarik's voice had tugged Anna out of her spiraling thoughts. "What happened? Why did the Vindarr surrendered? Last I checked, they had the upper hand. Or at least, their mages did."

Anna moved closer to the two men. She wanted to know the answer, but even more than that, she wanted a distraction from the closed door and what was taking place behind it.

"I'll admit, I'm not entirely clear on what happened," the Admiral said. "They had us pinned, and then those damn crystals that their mages wear just . . ."

"Exploded?" Anna offered when the Naismith trailed off.

He glanced at her. "Yeah, something like that."

"I think it was Elsa." Anna tried to keep her voice steady, wanting to be strong. It was what her sister would do, but there was still a tremble in her voice. "We found Tyr. He had one of the Vindarr's crystals. There was, uh, a really cold shockwave, and ice covered the crystal just before it exploded," she had said in a rush, her mind feeling like a jumbled mess as it tried to sort through the events of the past few hours.

Naismith lifted an eyebrow, shifting his gaze to the closed door. "If it was the Queen, then she saved a lot of men. Without their magic, the Vindarr were quick to surrender, though I think they were as confused as we were." After a silent moment, he asked, "is Tyr . . ."

"Dead, sir," Alarik answer.

"Was it you?"

Alarik shook his head. "We're fairly certain it was the Queen, though we didn't see the fight, only the aftermath. Tyr was a frozen statue in the middle of a destroyed courtyard."

The Admiral drew his head back sharply, shock written across his face. "The Queen fought Tyr?"

"And won. Though not without. . ." Alarik gestured toward the door.

Naismith had sighed deeply, folding his arms over his chest. A thick silence fell over them. The Admiral turned toward Anna. "You realize, when she recovers, the Queen is going to murder us all for allowing you to come here tonight?"

Malthe, Kristoff, and the medic had spent hours in the room with Elsa. She was in terrible shape, her injuries far more extensive than they originally thought, but they managed to stabilize her. They set the broken bones, bandaged the cuts, and stitched the open wounds. It seemed, for a moment, that everything would truly be okay. Elsa was finally resting peacefully, her pulse steady, her breathing calm. She was okay.

She just needed rest.

It was late in the day when Anna had finally been allowed into the room to see her sister. Once she recovered from the initial shock of seeing Elsa lying prone, pale and bruised, she carefully cleaned the blood from her sister's face, so that she could pretend Elsa was only sleeping. Anna sat back, watching her sister, studying her every breath, her every wince. Elsa looked awful, her skin ghostly pale with beads of sweat dotting her flesh. Her cheeks stood out, bright red under the darkening bruises and angry cuts. Anna knew she was running a slight fever; Malthe had been concerned but told her it was expected. Elsa's chest rose and fell in stuttered, shallow breathing, and every so often there was a concerning pause that caused Anna's own chest to tighten as she waited for her sister to draw the next shallow breath. Then she would draw another, and eventually fall back into the raspy, stuttered pace.

She wanted to reach out and grab Elsa's hand and hold it in her own, but just as she'd been the night before, Anna was terrified that she might break her fragile, wounded sister. And so, she kept her distance, and kept her trembling hands clasped tightly on her own lap, picking at the bit of gauze wrapped around her own palm.

Anna stared at her sister, studying every mark that marred Elsa's normally smooth, pale skin. Committing each bruise and cut to memory, whether she intended to or not. As much as she wanted to forget this entire ordeal had ever happened, she knew that was an impossibility. She had been changed forever, and there was no doubt in her mind that Elsa would likewise never be quite the same.

Assuming she pulled through this.

Anna averted her gaze and blew out a breath, willing the tears not to fall, but as each moment passed, it was getting more and more difficult to keep her emotions in check.

A soft knock on the door had drawn her attention, and she looked up as Kristoff stepped into the quiet room. His gaze lingered on Elsa's prone form for a long moment. "Hey," he finally said, with a smile that came nowhere near his eyes. "How's she doing?"

Anna swallowed thickly and shook her head. "Same. Malthe said the fever is a good sign, that she's sti—" She stopped, trapping her bottom lip between her teeth and dropping her gaze to the floor as her vision blurred. She angrily swiped at the tears trailing down her face.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, Kristoff squeezing gently. "You know, she's not going to blame you, for any of this."

"No," Anna said thickly. She knew her sister well enough to know exactly how this would play out, even though Anna was the one who had started this, that day when she walked out of the Baron's manor and went to see Erik. She'd do anything to take those moments back, to stop and listen to her sister, her reasoning. But she couldn't, and she knew that _when_ Elsa woke up where the blame for everything would fall. "She'll blame herself. And that's worse."

She heard Kristoff release a heavy breath and knew that he knew it was true. Elsa would always take the weight of everything onto her own shoulders. Anna scrubbed her hands over her face, then slouched back in her seat.

"You should get some sleep."

Anna shook her head. "No, that's okay. I don't want to leave her alone."

Kristoff knew better than to argue with her when it came to staying by her sister's side, and he retreated with an offer to bring Anna a hot chocolate. She nodded, but didn't know if she would actually be able to drink it. It felt wrong to enjoy a warm, comforting beverage while Elsa was lying in front of her in very obvious distress. In _pain._

She still didn't know the story behind what had taken place between Elsa and Tyr. It had forced her overactive mind to create horrific scenes that played out over and over as she watched her sister breathe. In every one, she stood by helplessly as Elsa was brutally attacked, while she barely escaped the scuffle with her life.

Anna was playing through another one of these scenarios when, without warning, Elsa gasped, a tortured, breathless sound that shook Anna to her core. She bolted upright in her chair, fingers grasping painfully at the armrest.

Elsa's face crumpled, her own fingers twisting in the blanket as she pressed her head back into the pillow and arched her back, struggling to pull in another painful-sounding breath. There was a wet, whistling sound from within her sister's chest that Anna knew wasn't right. The next breath Elsa managed was weaker than the previous one, and the pause between each one was getting longer and longer. Anna shot out of her chair and ran to the door, yanking it open.

"Get Malthe, now," she ordered the guard stationed just outside the room. She didn't wait for a response before rushing back to her sister, her hands hovering, at a loss of how to help as Elsa continued to struggle through each breath.

The doctor had rushed back into the room and assessed the struggling Queen. He used a word Anna didn't understand and was convinced he had made up. Malthe told her it meant that there was blood filling the space between Elsa's chest and lungs, making it difficult for her to breathe.

That, Anna understood.

Then Elsa's fever spiked, coming on fast and ruthless. The wound on her left side had become infected and had to be reopened so he could properly clean out.

Elsa wasn't okay, and she needed so much more than rest.

That had been late in the evening. Anna didn't know what time it was now, only that the last she heard, Elsa was crashing hard, and she wasn't there with her. Anna jumped up, ripping the blankets back. She was halfway out of the bed when two large hands stopped her progress.

"Whoa, hey, relax." Kristoff blocked her path.

"Wha?" Anna blinked, struggling to organize her thoughts into something approaching coherence.

"You fell asleep in the hallway outside Elsa's room," Kristoff said softly. "I thought you'd sleep better in an actual bed. You're in the room right next to Elsa's."

Anna dragged her hands over her face, calming herself. "How long was I asleep? Is Elsa—"

"Maybe an hour or so. Malthe is still in with her. Unfortunately, I haven't heard anything."

Anna threw her legs over the side of the bed and pushed past Kristoff. He didn't stop her, understanding there was no point. He followed her back out into the hallway where Rune sat at the door, staring at it with soulful eyes. Anna knew she couldn't - or at least, shouldn't - barge into the room. Frustrated, she paced in the hallway, only vaguely aware of other movement in the area, other people who might be there with her.

The only thing she could think about, the only thing that mattered, was that Elsa lay on the other side of this door, badly wounded. Before long, Alarik came running in, to be soon followed by the Admiral and Captain Jogeir, who had all heard that the Queen had taken a turn for the worse.

Anna knew she was supposed to be strong. With Elsa . . . hurt, it was up to her to put on a brave face and make everyone think she was calm and in control. She had seen her sister do it countless times, but Anna wasn't Elsa, and she could never hope to measure up. The best she could do was keep herself from falling completely apart in front of everyone. So, she bit her lip and continued to pace, trying to distract herself.

Anna hugged herself as she waited on the doctor. Kristoff had attempted more than once to comfort her, or at least get her to sit down, but she was too anxious to be still.

This was all too much. It seemed that every time Anna almost got her sister back, Elsa was yanked away by something else, some other force keeping them apart. Perhaps this was her punishment for not listening to her sister when Erik first approached her. Anna would do anything to take it all back, to return to that morning in Valle and make a different decision.

Finally, Malthe stepped out of Elsa's room. His solemn, tired expression caused Anna's stomach to drop to the floor. As she waited for him to speak, she couldn't even breathe.

"We were able to drain the fluid off her lungs," the doctor told her. "We drained the infection and packed the wound, but—" he wrung his hands in front of him, displaying a nervousness Anna had never seen before in the man "—the Queen's fever is very high, and she is very weak."

Anna shook her head, not comprehending what he was telling her. "What does that mean?"

Malthe was silent for a long moment, then tilted his head sympathetically. "I'm sorry, Your Highness, but the Queen is dying."

* * *

" _I'm sorry, Your Highness, but the Queen is dying."_

_Then tell her to stop._

There were things, moments in Anna's life she would never forget. Her parents' arms wrapped around her and her sister, the feeling of ice crawling across her skin as she slowly froze. The way Elsa said her name when she wanted to scold her but was trying not to laugh. That first hug after thirteen years of separation.

She remembered the times they had played together when they were little, before the accident. A dusty, long forgotten memory floated to the surface. Anna couldn't recall how old they had been, or what had happened, only that she'd been very annoyed at her sister, Elsa was doing something she didn't like.

Anna had run off to tell their mother, her face red and pinched. Her mother had looked up from her book, smiled softly, and told her, "then tell her to stop." It had been such a simple solution for such a simple problem. Elsa always had a hard time saying no to her, had always been willing to go along with Anna's schemes and games. Maybe if she had learned to say no all those years ago, they would have never been separated. But that was a thought for another time; right now, she needed her sister to listen to her, to give in to her request.

She needed her sister to fight.

Anna sat again beside Elsa's bed, with her chair pulled so close, it was pressed against the mattress. Rune was sitting on the floor, her large head resting on the foot of the bed. Anna leaned forward and brushed her fingers through her sister's messy blonde hair. There were bits of dirt and blood still staining the strands. Anna had done her best to wash it out with a wet cloth, but there was only so much she could do.

Anna bit her lip as she watched her sister's chest stutter over every breath. Malthe told her that Elsa had broken three ribs on her left side, and that one of the bones had nicked something important inside, and caused internal bleeding that led to her lung collapsing. It had all gone over Anna's head; the only thing she really understood was that they had fixed the issue, but her lung would need time before it was fully functional again. That meant for the next few days, Elsa was going to continue to have issues breathing. Assuming she made it that long.

Malthe had done everything he could. Every other hour, he returned to check on Elsa's lungs and the wound on her side, but her temperature was still dangerously high, her breathing shallow and labored. Each time he visited, the doctor's expression was more and more drawn, and Anna didn't need him to tell her that Elsa was slipping away. She could see it. Feel it. After everything she'd gone through, it was just too much.

Tears filled Anna's eyes, and this time she didn't bother to try and stop them from falling. She leaned forward and scooped up her sister's hand, folding it between her own. Soft gauze covered Elsa's wrist from where the cuffs she wore for so long had rubbed the skin raw.

It had been early in the day—though it felt like a lifetime ago—when Jogeir dragged Erik into the room and told him to find a way to remove the cuffs. As it turned out, he had a key, after all.

Anna pressed her lips against Elsa's knuckles, a sob escaping her throat. She lifted her head, her thumb tracing patterns over the small patch of unmarred skin.

"You remember when we were younger? I would sit outside your door for hours, just talking, telling you about my day, about what happened," she whispered softly. "There were days I could hear you giggling on the other side. I would look for your shadow through the crack under the door, the times you'd be sitting right there. I treasured those moments, because I knew you were there, listening. I could never understand why you'd listen, but never let me in.

"I know now you were just trying to protect me. You're always trying to protect me. And how have I repaid that? By not listening to you. At your coronation, and again in Valle, I ignored you, and you paid the price of my ignorance. You should think me the worst sister in the world, but I know you won't. I know that no matter how much I screw up, no matter the price you end up paying for it, you will still love me. And I think that makes it worse.

"You should hate me, threaten to exile me. Anything. I deserve it and I will take the blame for everything, if you will just open your eyes."

Anna pressed her forehead against Elsa's still fingers. "Please," she begged with a sob. "I'm so sorry." She choked on a lump in her throat as the flood gates opened, and she couldn't have stopped it even if she cared to. "Please, don't give up. Don't leave me behind."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! I finished a new chapter and am too impatient to wait until Monday to post. So you get the newest chapter now. Thank you for your continued reviews and to all the people who have amazingly followed this story for almost a year. That's amazing. Thank you. You guys are awesome. 
> 
> Somehow this chapter, it's not my fault. I don't know how, but it's not. Also, here are some tissues?


	40. Tell Her I Wasn't Scared

Elsa sat on the dark pebbled beach with her arms wrapped around her bent knees. She wore comfortable light blue leggings beneath a beautiful silken dress. The hem stopped just below her knees and a slit ran up to her hip, allowing for a wide range of motion. Instead of her usual braid, her long hair flowed freely around her shoulders.

She watched the waves as they rolled and fell in a lazy pattern, feeling . . . calm. Content. Elsa could almost make out a faint rumble in the distance, a storm far out on the horizon. It seemed to be calling for her attention, but each time she reached toward the horizon her skin would flush and prickle, her chest would tighten until it was hard to breathe, and ghosts of pain would light up throughout her body. Something whispered to her and told her not to answer, told her that way offered only pain and struggle.

So, she didn't answer. Elsa shied away from the storm, dug her toes into the dark pebbles of the beach and watched the rolling ocean tides, feeling at peace with herself. She knew this place well, but not why she was here, nor what laid beyond this spot. She was used to having all the answers, because something had always told her it was her job, her responsibility, to have them, but for once, she found that she didn't mind not knowing. She didn't mind letting someone else worry. Her battles were done.

She sat there a long time, watching the waves steadily move. She drew her legs closer and folded her arms over her knees, rested her chin on top. She closed her eyes, and had just started to drift off when a fluttering light crossed her vision.

Elsa lifted her head and straightened, squinting at the light. It was a butterfly, glowing a pale yellow. It fluttered around her before landing on her arm. She tilted her chin, curious how creature had invaded her personal sanctuary. She realized the butterfly wasn't just glowing yellow but was made of pure light, and like a tiny sun, it warmed her. Another light fluttered past, this one of deep purple, and was soon joined by more, each a different color. The little yellow one took off from her arm to join its companions.

She watched, memorized, as the lights gathered in a tight formation, blending into a gorgeous prism of color. The light grew and stretched and began to take shape. A figure emerged from the light, a woman who stood before Elsa. The woman was oddly dressed, wearing thick pants and a shirt that looked to be patched together from some type of animal skin. Elsa didn't recognize the woman, knew only that, like the butterfly, she didn't belong here.

"Hello, little one," the woman said. Her voice was soft and smooth, like the hushed promises of a mother's lullaby.

"Who are you?" she asked.

The stranger dipped her chin and smiled softly, like a mother addressing a small child. "We are the Landvættir."

 _Landvættir._ The name struck a chord, tugged at something in Elsa's gauzy memory. She scrunched up her face as she thought about it, until she remembered. "Land wrights," she said softly. "You're a nature spirit."

The Landvættir nodded. "And you saved us."

"I did?"

She nodded once more. "You freed us from the Vindarr."

 _Vindarr?_ Elsa didn't remember who or what they were, and when she tried, a ghost of pain flared throughout her body. Immediately, she let go of the slip of memory, not wanting to endure whatever came with remembering.

"The Sirma and the Landvættir have shared a bond for many centuries," the spirit continued. "Their leader had lost his way, and their eldest son followed his misguided steps, looking to take what was not his to have. Their rival the Vindarr had spent almost as long forcing the spirits into cages, stealing our magic. Thanks to you, the Sirma will be able to find their way again, and the Vindarr are no longer a threat."

Elsa wrinkled her nose. There had to be some mistake; she couldn't have done all that. She wasn't anyone important, she was just . . . Elsa realized she couldn't actually remember, but also that she also didn't care. Not with anything more than a passing interest. A feeling of contentment had fallen over her. She was at peace here, willing to let the problems of the world slide through her fingers like melting ice.

"Why are you here?" she asked. The one thing she did care about, because she had realized that while the spirit had been taking, the storm in the distance was growing stronger, the rumble nearer. Elsa felt a prickle of heat at the back of her neck, faint twinges of pain from various points of her body.

"Because of what you have done for us and our people, we have come to offer you a choice."

 _A choice?_ Something about the spirit's words caused a bubble of laughter to form in Elsa's chest. It was a lie, what they were offering. She made choices, but never for herself. Everything had always been decided for her, from how she lived to how she spoke to how she spent her time each day. She wasn't even able to choose which fork she ate dinner with. It was all set out for her, predetermined by those who came before her. Her life, her fate, her destiny, all of it a prison with gold bars and soft beds, surrounded by people watching, waiting for her to make some sort of misstep.

"Little one." The spirit crossed the short distance between them, kneeling in front of her. "At this moment, you lay on the precipice between life and death."

Elsa was fairly certain that _was_ something she should be worried about, but really, she just wanted the spirit to leave before those feelings grew. She didn't want to worry, or care; she just wanted to stay in this peaceful feeling, this quiet contentment.

"I don't understand."

"You will." Before Elsa had a chance to move away the Landvættir pressed her hand against the top of her head.

The storm grew, quickly spreading across the horizon as the memories and pain crashed into her all at once, in the cruelest way. Elsa gasped, her throat cutting off a cry of pain as her sides flared with different brands of agony. She could feel warm blood seeping through her dress. Her wrist ached, and she couldn't move her right hand at all, where she remember now the bone was broken just past her wrist.

She gritted her teeth as tears filled her eyes, remembering the bodies of soldiers falling against her sheet of ice, the way the ice pierced Tyr's heart, the suffocating heat of the rock tomb. She wanted to close her eyes against the pain but each time she tried, images invaded her mind: a brutal battle, a vicious fight.

Then she remembered the kind smile and hopeful gaze of her sister, and the agony bloomed beyond description.

The Landvættir withdrew her hand and just as quickly as it had come, the pain faded away into a distant echo, waiting on the edges, leaving Elsa gasping for breath. She remembered _everything_. She tightened her arms around her legs, drawing herself into a tight ball and shook her head. She didn't want to remember, but like everything else, the choice had been taken from her. She just wanted to rest; she didn't want to fight anymore.

"Why?" she asked the spirit her voice thick and hoarse as she tried to talk around the weight of everything.

"Because, you must understand what you will be enduring if you go back, and what you'll be leaving behind if you stay."

Tears cut paths down her cheeks as she struggled through what the spirit was telling her. She didn't know how to make a choice like this, she didn't know if she could. She sniffled, trying to sort through the cacophony of tangled thoughts. She latched onto the first clear thread and asked, "What will happen if I stay?"

"You will be at peace, reunited with your parents and those that have come before you."

"And Anna?"

The Landvættir smiled softly. "She will be heartbroken, but in time and with help of those around her, she will heal and one day become Queen."

That didn't sound too bad. Elsa knew her sister had it in her to be a great Queen. But it would be selfish of her to leave her sister behind, to endure the loss of her last bit of family and drop the weight of a kingdom on her shoulders. Then there was Olaf and Marshmallow, and Rune. Their lives were tied to hers. When her magic faded, they would as well. And then her sister would be mourning the loss of more than one life.

"And if I go back?" she asked, curling in further on herself, remembering the pain from just moments ago. She couldn't imagine anyone surviving all of that.

The spirit tilted its head, looking sad. "We will not lie to you, child. Your body and mind have been through much, more than you are aware, and it is possible that the strength we give you may not be enough to endure it."

"So, I could still . . ." she couldn't even finish the thought.

"Yes."

Elsa felt her chest tighten painfully, understanding that she could go back, endure all that agony, and still leave her sister behind. But at least she would be able to say goodbye.

"You should know," the Landvættir spoke, breaking through her churning thoughts. "If you choose to return and survive this ordeal, there will be more trials ahead of you, many of which will be far more difficult than what you have already endured."

She had known that as a Queen, her life would be full of obstacles, tough situations, and choices, but she had a terrible sinking feeling the spirit wasn't talking about the normal issues that came with ruling a kingdom. She looked up; her eyes filled with the question she didn't want to ask.

She didn't need to. The Landvættir reached out and wrapped her glowing fingers around Elsa's, and she felt a comforting warmth seep into them. "Little one, you are very special." The Landvættir squeezed her hand, but her face fell, and Elsa was sure she saw tears in the spirit's eyes. "You have a great destiny before you, but there are also those who would attempt to use you for their own ends."

"Like Tyr and Markkus?"

"I am afraid so."

"And my sister? My friends, my people?"

"Their lives are inescapably tied to yours."

There it was. Elsa dropped her gaze to the pebbled beach. It always came back to her magic, a power she never wanted, couldn't control, and only ever brought pain. Whatever fate had in store for her, she would be dragging others through it with her. If they were hurt, or worse, it would ultimately be her fault. She squeezed her eyes shut, her breath hitching. "If I . . . if I don't go back, those people who want my magic . . ."

The waves rolled and crashed against the beach as the spirit remained quiet for a long moment, as if she didn't want to give her answer. When she spoke, her voice was full of regret. "They would have no reason to target Arendelle or her people. The monarchy would be nothing more than a sleepy trading kingdom tucked away to the north."

Elsa shook her head. She had already known the truth, but to hear it spoken out loud by another, that _she_ was the cause of others' pain and grief. . . She looked up at the spirit, tears blurring her vision. "Can you take my magic?"

"I'm sorry, little one, but I cannot."

No matter what she did, she would be the cause of people's pain, of her sister's pain. But if she moved on, if she let go, then at least they would have a chance to heal. Her sister would still have a chance at happiness.

Elsa couldn't stop the sob that tore through her chest. This choice, it wasn't a gift. It was pain and hope, happiness and stress, family and war, responsibility and duty. It was everything good and everything bad rolled into one single package, one single moment. It was _life_ and it was too much.

She couldn't breathe. She was drowning. She wanted the peace and contentment back, the blissful ignorance.

"What is your choice, little one?" The Landvættir asked patiently.

Elsa looked up at the spirit.

_Tell her I wasn't scared._


	41. Breath of Life

It was a simple mistake, one anyone could make. But Anna should've known better, should've been more careful. She had barely slept since they landed on Hasvik, and between everything that had happened she had forgotten to eat anything in the last . . . she wasn't even sure how long.

She stood up while Malthe was in the room checking on Elsa. The older man had spent most of his life caring for Anna, taking care of illnesses and injuries, and she should have known he would be watching her carefully.

It was a small misstep, but enough. She'd gotten dizzy and had to grab onto the bedpost to keep from falling over. Malthe had just short of ordered her to get some sleep, and some food. "At least four hours' rest and a proper meal," he'd said sternly. Anna could have refused; she didn't want to leave her sister when Elsa was still slipping further and further away. She wanted to be there if. . .

Anna choked down the lump in her throat. It was another thought she couldn't finish, another she didn't want to finish. They seemed to be stacking up. She had only agreed to leave long enough to get something to eat, insisting she could sleep on the floor. Malthe had finally sighed heavily, in a way that made Anna feel sorry that he had been charged with attempting to care for two women who seemed to be terrible at taking care of themselves. She felt bad enough to compromise. She would go eat an actual meal, and while she was out, one of the soldiers would locate a cot and move it into Elsa's room so Anna could sleep without having to leave her sister's side.

While Anna didn't regret the compromise, it made her antsy to step away while Elsa was in such critical condition. She had planned to wolf down enough food to satisfy the doctor and hurry back, but now that she was sitting at a table with a plate piled high with what would normally be tasty, mouth-watering offerings, her stomach churned. Among the offerings was a small bowl of berries. An innocent enough bit of food, but it reminded Anna of the fruit tart she and Elsa had shared, what felt like a lifetime ago, in the castle's comfort library, and now all she could think about was the fact that it was Elsa's birthday.

This was supposed to be a special day—the special day—the first birthday the sisters could spend together in thirteen long years. Anna had been preparing for this day since October, thinking of exactly what would make the day perfect for Elsa. She had talked to the bakers about making a large fruit tart, something different from a traditional cake. It was going to be a small celebration, nothing big or ostentatious, but perfectly Elsa-sized. She'd talked to Kai about giving the staff the day off, knowing that would make Elsa smile. Or, it would have, if they were home instead of stuck on some gods forsaken frozen island with her sister barely hanging on.

Anna choked on a sob. She folded her arms on the table and buried her face. It was just too much. She couldn't do it. She needed Elsa to be okay. She needed her sister.

* * *

She gasped, and the air turned to molten lava in her chest. Elsa squeezed her eyes shut, tears slipping out from the corners. Her chest felt like someone had smashed it to pieces, then glued back together with acid. A sharp, red-hot poker lanced her right side, and an exquisite agony pulsed across her left. She could barely move her right hand without wanting to cry. She pressed her head back against the pillow, desperate to escape the fire that threatened to drown her in its intensity.

A breathless cry escaped her cracked lips as sore muscles protested the movement, ratcheting up the pain to an impossible level. Her body ached and her skin felt hot and itchy, irritated by the coarse fabric of a blanket that felt too heavy against her limbs. She was feeling lightheaded, dizzy. The blanket was pressing uncomfortably against her legs, stomach, and chest; she couldn't move, couldn't breathe.

Elsa bit down on her lip as her fingers curled in the blanket to pull it away and ease the pressure. It took more effort than she thought she had in her, but she was able to shift the heavy cloth away from her feet enough to drag them over the side of the bed. Once she could push herself into a sitting position, Elsa folded over, her broken arm pressed tightly against her side. Her other hand fisted into the sheets, ice sluggishly spread across the rumpled covers as air cut across her numb lips. Breathing was a study in torture; she struggled through every inhale, feeling like there was a knife embedded in her lungs.

Hot tears welled in Elsa's eyes as she looked around the dim room, trying to remember where she was, but her eyes wouldn't focus and her memory was fragmented, with gaping holes and moments that made little sense. She couldn't concentrate enough to grab onto anyone thought for longer than a second; each one slipped away with a stabbing pain in her head, like it was twisted around razor wire. The only thing she knew for sure was that she was in pain, and that the room was too hot, too small, and there wasn't enough air.

She was suffocating.

Elsa's chest tightened painfully, and every instinct within her screamed to run, to escape. She gasped for air as she pushed her uncooperative body upright and stumbled to her feet. Pain radiated through her limbs with every unsteady movement, and her legs shook so badly, she was sure they wouldn't support her for long. But she had to escape this place. She needed to find Anna.

* * *

Anna didn't know how long she sat there crying, but at some point, she had dozed off, only to be woken by the feel of a heavy body sitting on the bench beside her. It was Kristoff, and she was struck with an overwhelming sense of gratitude, not just for his presence, but for being a reliable shoulder to lean on. She knew she should thank him, and more; he had been through a lot himself, and she should ask how he was doing, how he was handling everything.

She opened her mouth to do just that, but a sudden icy breeze swept in from the hallway, erasing all thought. Anna's head snapped up, and she frowned. It took her sluggish mind a moment to catch up. "Elsa?" she breathed.

She hurried across the room and into the hallway, with Kristoff right on her heels. She didn't hesitate before grabbing the doorknob and shoving the door open with no idea what to expect on the other side.

A frigid wind was swirling within the room, though there was no visible snow or ice. Anna had only a split second to absorb that fact before her gaze was drawn to the shocking sight of her sister hunched over near the foot of the bed, her shoulder braced against a bedpost. Elsa's eyes were squeezed shut, her arms wrapped tightly around her middle.

Anna gaped for a moment as her mind tried to process the information, that knowledge that her sister who had been on death's door mere hours ago was now standing, looking like she thought she was going to go somewhere. She turned to Kristoff with wide eyes. "Get the doctor," she said hoarsely, her heart pounding anxiously.

He nodded curtly and rushed out of the room. Once they were alone, Anna carefully made her way to her sister. As she moved closer, she could see Elsa was trembling violently, her breath cutting across her pale lips in painful sounding wheezes. Her cheeks were flushed red, standing in stark contrast to the frightening white of the rest of her face.

Anna tilted her head and reached for her sister's shoulder. "Elsa," she breathed.

Her sister startled, moving automatically away. She nearly fell, but threw out a hand to catch herself against the bed. When her fingers touched, a neat circle of frost exploded from the spot. "Anna."

Elsa's voice sounded like sandpaper. Anna winced at the sound. She started reaching for her sister again but stopped mid-action, afraid Elsa might hurt herself trying to move away.

Elsa's fingers twitched against the blanket, and she curled further in on herself. "I can't . . ." She panted, her knees buckling. "I can't bre. . ."

Anna hurried to catch her falling sister around the shoulders, attempting to guide her descent to the floor without hurting her further. She held Elsa gently by the arms, shifting her head as she tried to meet her sister's roaming gaze. "Elsa, you need to calm down." She gingerly pushed sweat-soaked hair away from the woman's face.

Elsa shook her head, her trembling fingers tangling in the fabric of her own shirt. "I can't . . . I ca. . ." Her breathing was erratic and shallow, her lips were turning a concerning shade of blue. She remembered what Malthe had told her about the collapsed lung.

Anna took her sister's face in her hands, intent on trying to explain it to her. "Elsa, look at me." It took some effort for Elsa to fix her gaze on Anna, but when she did, the look in her eyes caused Anna's own breath to seize in her chest. Elsa's eyes were raw, full of intense pain and very real fear.

Anna felt frozen in that moment, her lips moving soundlessly. Before she could say anything, Elsa's face crumbled, a flood of tears escaping down her flushed cheeks.

"I'm sorry," Elsa said breathlessly, turning her face away. Then, without warning, the dam broke.

Anna didn't know what to do, didn't know how to take the shattered pieces of her sister spread before her and fit them back together. She pressed her lips together and wrapped her arms around Elsa's shaking form, pulling her sister closer, until the older woman's hot forehead rested against her shoulder. She closed her eyes as Elsa sobbed, feeling out of her depth and wholly unqualified to offer her wounded sister the comfort and care she needed. She wished desperately that their mother was here. She would know what to do.

Eventually, Kristoff returned with the doctor, who stopped in his tracks, looking just as surprised as Anna had been to see Elsa awake. Anna bit her lip, tightening her arms around her sister, who had yet to calm even a fraction. The fingers of her left hand twisted in Anna's shirt.

Either Elsa didn't notice or didn't care when the doctor knelt next to them. He gave her a quick once-over, not touching the distressed Queen. "Her side is bleeding," he said in a soft, deliberate voice. "See if you can calm her a bit. At least enough to drink something."

Anna nodded, turning to Elsa as the doctor rooted through his bag. Anna attempted to comfort the woman, encouraging her to take slower, deeper breaths, but Elsa wasn't listening. When the doctor handed her a cup and Anna attempted to convince her sister to drink it, it only seemed to agitate her even more. Elsa attempted to pull back, and her shoulder knocked against the bed. Her fingers grasped the wooden frame and, for a moment, Anna was sure if her sister had the strength to do so, she would have bolted.

Anna set the cup out of sight and held her hands out. "It's okay," she said. "No one is going to make you take anything you don't want to."

Elsa stared at her, then sagged against the bed, allowing Anna to wrap her arms around her once more. She'd stopped crying, but her breath was still coming too fast and too shallow.

"If we can't calm her down, we risk her lung collapsing again," Malthe said in a low, serious tone.

Anna tightened her arms around her sister, afraid that this burst of life Elsa had somehow found was slipping through her fingers with each stilled, painful wheeze. "I don't know what to do," she said breathlessly.

Malthe pressed his lips into a tight line, and Anna could see the same concern and fear etched into his face. He nodded sharply, seeming to have come to some sort of decision. "Just hold her. I have an idea."

Hold her. Anna could do that. She could spend the rest of her days doing just that. Anna whispered softly to Elsa, running her hand over her sister's hair and doing her best to soothe her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Malthe unroll a leather pouch and remove what appeared to be a thin metal rod and glass tube on top.

He drew some clear liquid into the tube, then turned toward Elsa. He moved behind her, and Anna watched anxiously as he lifted the hem of Elsa's shirt. She couldn't see what the doctor did next, but it caused Elsa to jump, arching away from the doctor. At first nothing happened, but then Elsa's breathing slowed, her eyelids drooping as she listed to the side.

Anna moved aside so Kristoff could scoop up the limp, spent Queen. He carried her back to the bed, where he laid her down gently. Anna bit down on her lip to keep from asking Malthe what he had done to Elsa. Instead, she sat on the mattress beside her sister as the doctor fussed with the bandage on Elsa's side, her fingers wrapped tightly around Elsa's. When the doctor finally stepped away, she reached out to cup the side of her sister's face.

Elsa blinked up at her heavily, rapidly losing the fight against whatever the doctor had given her. "Anna," she whispered, her voice thick with exhaustion. "I want to go home." A single tear escaped from the corner of her eye.

As Anna watched the tear trail down the side of her sister's face, the air went out of her, and she felt the fragments of her strained heart shatter into pieces.

* * *

Elsa was restless, shifting beneath the blanket that had been so carefully draped over her. Each time she released a small, pained sound, Alarik shifted his chair closer to her bedside. He felt the weight of responsibility, alone with the Queen while Anna was in a meeting. He'd never been prone to stress, having been in his fair share of life altering situations, but there had been no denying the anxious flutter in his chest as he stood by waiting for an update on the Queen's condition. There had been a lump lodged in his throat ever since Malthe told them she was rapidly fading away. The image of Elsa, a woman he had quickly grown to respect for multiple reasons, lying beaten and broken in that cold rainy hallway was burnt into his mind. He thanked the gods for Kristoff's quick thinking, possibly the only reason they had got her to Malthe in one piece.

When she had woken that morning with the strength to get out of bed, the relief had been palpable. Elsa was still far from okay, but no longer teetering on death's doorstep. The doctor looked more reassured, more confident than he had hours prior. Alarik saw something else in the way the others—the doctor, the Admiral, Jogeir—acted in Elsa's presence; even when she was unconscious, there was an air of deep respect, but also a familiarity and sense of kinship that Alarik was surprised to find himself envious of.

He hadn't known the Queen for very long, and most of his interaction with her had been under extenuating circumstances, but she had left a deep impression on him. He felt in awe of her. Here was a woman who had willingly given herself over to an enemy to protect soldiers who may have been traitors. She acted as though she was unimportant, like her life was expendable and something to be bargained with, when the exact opposite was true. Alarik wanted to get to know her better—the real Elsa, the woman behind the crown. He felt drawn to her in the same way he'd been drawn to join the navy, and it pained him to see her in such obvious distress.

It had been nearly impossible to peel Anna away from her sister's bedside. Since waking earlier that morning, Elsa had been in and out of consciousness, never fully waking, but clearly agitated and pained. Anna would lean over her sister and run her hand against Elsa's hair, whispering soft reassures. Without fail, Elsa would relax with a shallow sigh, drifting back off.

Even when Elsa was sleeping somewhat restfully, Anna was reluctant to leave her side, but decisions had to be made. They needed to decide what they would do with Erik, with the Vindarr and Sirma, and with the girl, Rayna, who seemed to be rather familiar with their Queen.

A few hours after Elsa had first woken, Alarik had been walking down the hallway, impressed by the hasty setup. A large dining hall had been converted into a med ward to treat the wounded soldiers, with an attached kitchen, equipped with a table big enough to seat at least twenty. They had also moved tables and benches into some smaller adjacent rooms, so more soldiers could eat at a time. Turned another into a conference room of sorts, and across from the newly minted med ward was the Queen and Anna. To the left of their temporary quarters was the physician's room, and on the other side was the Admiral's, then Captain Jogeir. All along the hallway, they had stationed guards.

With all the extra security around the Queen's room Alarik had been surprised when movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention, he turned to see a small, skinny form inching along the stone wall, creeping behind a guard toward the door to Queen Elsa's chambers.

He pretended not to notice her, waiting until she was closer before reaching out a hand and snatching the girl by the collar of her dress. He pulled her from the shadows and, getting his first good look at her, was taken aback by how closely she resembled Anna. She could almost pass for a younger version of the Princess.

The girl frowned and tried to take a swing at him, but Alarik easily caught her small fist.

"Let me go!" she demanded.

"Calm down," Alarik said patiently. "Tell me who you are and what you're doing here."

"This is my home," she replied petulantly. "I can go where I want!" She tried to pull her hand away, but he held fast, not interested in being clocked in the face.

He winced, knowing that any child living within these walls probably didn't understand what was going on. "Maybe, but your people surrendered to Arendelle, so right now you can't wander about. Certainly not in this area. You wanna tell me who you are and why you're up here? Where are your parents?"

"They're dead," the girl said, frowning deeply. "You're from Arendelle?"

It took Alarik a moment to reorient himself as the girl abruptly shifted topics. He nodded. "I am."

She eyed him suspiciously, then huffed. "My name is Rayna. I'm a friend of Elsa's and I want to see her."

 _Elsa._ Not _Queen Elsa_. He rolled his lips between his teeth, releasing her fist but keeping a hand on her shoulder so she couldn't bolt. "How do you know the Queen?" he asked. Alarik doubted that the kid was any real trouble, but he had heard of people using children to gain an enemy's trust, to devastating consequences.

Rayna looked just as distrustful of his intentions, but eventually sighed heavily. "I've been taking care of her since she got here."

His brow folded. "Taking care of her how?"

She folded her arms over her chest, her gaze jumping past him to the various doors. Alarik had to wonder how she even knew which room was the Queen's in the first place, but that was a question for later.

"You know," Rayna said, rolling a hand in the air, "I took care of her. Like, brought her meals, got her bath ready, made sure she drank her medicine, got her laundry done, took messages to Markkus for her. Took care of her."

Alarik opened his mouth, only to snap it shut as his tired mind processed her words. "Medicine?"

"Yeah, so she didn't get sick?" The girl's eyes narrowed. "Which I hope you guys have been giving her because she got real sick when she stopped taking it before."

Alarik's eyes widened as the implications of what she was saying caught up with him. If Rayna was telling the truth, and she certainly seemed sincere, then Markkus had been drugging the Queen. It would explain a few things. He looked down at the girl who continued to glare up at him but was no longer fighting. "I need you to tell me everything you know," he told her. "Then maybe, just maybe, we can discuss you seeing the Queen."

Rayna hadn't been happy with the arrangement, but when Alarik offered to have her escorted down to the dungeons with the rest of the Vindarr soldiers, she reluctantly gave in. She told him quite a bit, and he was having a hard time wrapping his head around some of the information. Particularly, the training with Markkus, and what she referred to as the hot room. It all sounded like a bad dream.

After she'd finished her story, Alarik handed her off to a guard to confine her to one to one of the rooms at the far end of the hall where she would be close enough if he needed her, but far enough that she wouldn't get to the Queen unnoticed. He promised Rayna that she be allowed to see the Queen if her story checked out, but unfortunately, the only person who could really verify the story was still in and out of consciousness, and nowhere near lucid when she was awake.

Alarik took the information to Admiral Naismith, which prompted the meeting now taking place between Captain Jogeir, Malthe, and Anna as they discussed what Rayna had shared and how to move forward.

Elsa shifted on the bed, a small sound escaping her pressed lips as her face folded into a tight frown. Anna had given him simple instructions of what to do if she started waking up, to talk to her softly, reassure her she was safe, and make sure she was comfortable. Alarik had been a little surprised when Anna had left him with this important task, only to deflate a bit when she followed it up by telling him she had finally pushed Kristoff into a bed, and didn't want to wake him.

Alarik hesitated for a moment, again feeling the weight of the responsibility she had given him. When a muted whimper spilled past Elsa's lips and her breath kicked up a notch, he swallowed thickly and leaned forward to lay a hand against her sweaty brow. Gently, he pushed her hair back and spoke to her, keeping his voice calm and gentle until she sighed softly and slowly relaxed. Her breath evened out as she slipped back to sleep. Alarik sat back against the seat. He dragged a hand down his face as he blew out his own breath and watched her sleep.

* * *

They had important things to discuss, things that had weight and could have long-standing ramifications, but Anna could hardly focus on the conversation. She kept seeing her sister, huddled next to her bed, confused and in pain. Alone. Elsa should never have been left alone, and the medic who had been assigned to stay with her while Anna grabbed a meal was now tending to Vindarr soldiers in the cold, dreary dungeon.

It wasn't her fault, but guilt gnawed in Anna's gut, only fractionally mollified by the knowledge that Alarik was with her sister now. She knew Elsa would be safe under his watchful eye. Anna took a deep breath and forced her attention back to the three men before her, knowing this briefing was for her benefit, to allow her to decide what to do next, as Elsa could not.

The Admiral stated that while they had moved most of the Vindarr soldiers to the dungeon, he still had a few units scouring the Keep, making sure anyone who could be a threat was rounded up. They confined the citizens that lived in the Keep to the far wing, with Arendelle and Sirma soldiers standing guard to ensure none passed into the key areas.

"Are we sure it's safe to continue using the Sirma?" Jogeir asked. "Let's not forget, it was their leaders that started this whole mess."

Naismith shook his head. "I have not forgotten, but in this case the saying 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend' holds its weight. I don't trust the Sirma, but keeping the Vindarr under control is a hell of a lot easier with them than without them. And it's easier to control them as an ally." After a moment, he added, "the Sirma who came with us are being used to guard the Vindarr, along with some of our own soldiers. The only Sirma in the Keep's main tower is Erik, who has been kept under guard."

"What about allowing the Sirma who choose to, to return home?" Anna asked, though she didn't know whether it was a practical option. "That way the ones who remain are less likely to cause problems?"

The Admiral rubbed a hand across his chin. "It's not a terrible idea, as long as Erik remains in our custody as the leader of the Sirma until it's decided what to do with them as a whole. I doubt that's a decision that'll be made in the next few days." He sat back in his chair. "I'll talk with Erik. I still don't trust the man, but we need him to keep control of his people."

"He should be hung for the part he played," Jogeir said heatedly.

"I don't disagree, but that isn't for us to decide." Naismith's gaze shifted to Anna.

She sat a little straighter, holding up her hand. "I don't think that's what Elsa would want and considering it was her they—" She bit down on her lip, unable to fit the trauma of the past two months into a single sentence. Anna sighed. "Elsa is the Queen. I'm simply a placeholder."

"Speaking of the Queen," Admiral Naismith said, shifting his gaze back to Malthe. "I was told you have good news."

"I do," the doctor confirmed. "Though I'm still not completely sure how it happened, considering her condition just this morning. Queen Elsa is doing far better than I expected, or even hoped." Despite the positive report, a frown pulled at his lips.

"Isn't that good news?"

"Yes, of course," Malthe replied.

Jogeir leaned an elbow against the table. "But?" he prompted.

Malthe rolled his lips against his teeth, looking toward Anna and causing her heart to leap. "its excellent news, but if Your Highness would pardon my bluntness?"

He waited until Anna nodded for him to continue. She wanted to learn as much about her sister's condition as possible, her curiosity piqued regarding the sudden leap in Elsa's recovery.

"The Queen had an infection in the wound on her left side," Malthe said, eyes apologetic despite the permission to speak plainly. "We cleaned it out the best we could, but it had already become systemic. I have seen the same type of infection before, and even without other injuries most died within seventy-two hours. Queen Elsa was fighting that, plus a nick in her lung that caused it to collapse, multiple broken bones, and various other injuries." He paused a moment, allowing his words to sink in before continuing. "As much as it pains me to say, I never expected the Queen to wake up. And by all rights, she shouldn't have. It was too much for any person to survive."

A heavy silence fell over the room. Anna dropped her gaze to the tabletop as she realized just how close she had actually come to losing her sister. She swallowed thickly, knowing no one else would speak before she did. "And now?"

"Once the Queen fell back asleep, I examined her fully, and that's where things get . . ." He shook his head. "She still has a fever, but there is no sign of any infection in her side. And I don't mean the infection went away, I mean there are no signs of it ever having been there. She still has diminished breath sounds on her left side, but they are markedly better than they had been just this morning. She isn't out of the woods yet, but she is well on her way."

"You think her magic could have something to do with it?" Jogeir asked.

"I don't think so." Malthe shook his head. "Every illness and injury I have treated her for, the most recent being the head injury after her coronation, her recovery followed a relatively standard timeline. If this rather sudden recovery _does_ have anything to do with her magic, then it's a new development."

"In my time," Naismith said slowly, "I've seen soldiers survive wounds that no man had any right to survive. Perhaps this is just one of those events to be thankful for, and best left unquestioned."

Malthe didn't look satisfied with the answer, and Anna couldn't blame him. She was thankful Elsa was going to live against the odds, but if there was something new going on with her, then she wanted to know about it. But for the moment, at least, she agreed with the Admiral to simply be grateful her sister was no longer slipping away from them.

"Perhaps," Malthe finally said, with a slump in his shoulders. "But, as I said, while she is doing much better, the Queen is not yet out of the woods. While the actual injury to her lung wasn't severe, it will require time to recover. Until that time, breathing will be an uncomfortable affair, and a repeat of this morning could do a lot of damage. I would like to keep the Queen lightly sedated for the next few days. Nothing heavy," he added quickly, as though sensing Anna's hesitation, "just enough to keep her calm. It would also dampen the pain a considerable amount."

Anna wrinkled her nose. She didn't like the idea of Elsa being sedated at any level and knew for a fact Elsa would hate it even more. Her sister and medication were generally at odds with each other, and it had sparked more than one argument between her and their parents. "How long?" she asked.

"Just two days," Malthe said. "Three, at the most. Just long enough that she can breathe without feeling like someone is trying to skewer her lung."

It was hard to argue with that reasoning, and a light sedation meant that her sister would be loopy, but comfortable. If Elsa was mad about it after, Anna felt okay with taking that hit. She needed her sister to be okay, and for that to happen, the stubborn woman had to be able to rest. Something she couldn't do if she couldn't breathe. Anna nodded her permission. It still felt weird to be making the final decision, but it was growing uncomfortably familiar.

"Which brings us to the next topic," Naismith said. "What prompted me to call this meeting tonight."

Anna turned to him, her stomach flopping uncomfortably. It had only been a few hours ago that the Admiral asked for her presence in this briefing. She'd been reluctant to leave Elsa's side, but knew that she had to be present; it was her temporary responsibility. Until this moment, she hadn't known that there was a specific event, aside from the obvious, that had sparked his request.

"I talked to Captain Alarik earlier today," the Admiral continued. "It seems a young girl by the name of Rayna tried to gain access to Queen Elsa's room. She claims to have taken care of the Queen during her time here. The Captain seems to believe she was sincere and questioned her on what transpired between the Queen and Markkus. Alarik will write up a full report regarding what she told him, but one thing she mentioned is particularly troubling, and I felt it needed to be addressed immediately." He looked toward Malthe. "The girl told Alarik that they had given the Queen some sort of medication, daily, during her time here, and when she stopped taking it for a short period of time, she fell ill."

"Wait—medication?" Anna shook her head. "What sort of medication?" Knowing the way her sister felt about such things, she doubted that whatever it was, Elsa had taken it willingly. Assuming she even knew about it. The thought settled in Anna's gut like a stone.

Naismith shook his head. "I don't know. Rayna only said that it was to keep her from getting sick and that if she didn't take it, she'd fall ill again. She also stated that it was a medicine given to other Vindarr soldiers who were learning to become mages."

Anna's head spun as she worked to put these new pieces into the puzzle of her sister's experience with the Vindarr.

"You think this might be how they were influencing her?" Jogeir asked.

Malthe shrugged. "It's hard to say, but it's certainly possible."

Anna bit her lip as she turned toward the doctor. "Would you talk with her?" she asked. "See what you can learn? If she doesn't know anything more about it, maybe she can tell you who made it."

Malthe nodded. "Of course, Your Highness."

Anna returned the gesture, then frowned, searching her mind. She wanted to get back to Elsa, but couldn't help feeling there was something she was missing. "Markkus," she said suddenly, her gaze snapping to Jogeir. "Has anyone found him?"

The Captain shook his head. "I've searched through everyone in the dungeons and have not spotted him. It's possible he is somewhere else in the Keep," he added as Anna's face fell. "If he is, we will find him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well it took a little longer than I had hoped, I blame covid. I hope everyone is well. Thank you everyone for reading and commenting. I hope this chapter helps with some of the broken pieces the last two chapters created. That's all I got. <3


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